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FAITH    AND    ITS 
PSYCHOLOGY 


FAITH     AND     ITS 
PSYC  H  O  LO  GY 


BY 


WILLIAM     RALPH     INGE 


LADY  MARGARET  PROFESSOR  OF  DIVINITY  AT  CAMBRIDGE 


NEW    YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1913 


*  «.*•  ^*-*«<« 


%;';'^:V^O 


GENERAL    INTRODUCTION 
TO    THE    SERIES 


Man  has  no  deeper  or  wider  interest  than  theology ; 
none  deeper,  for  however  much  he  may  change,  he 
never  loses  his  love  of  the  many  questions  it  covers ; 
and  none  wider,  for  under  whatever  law  he  may  live 
he  never  escapes  from  its  spacious  shade;  nor  does 
he  ever  find  that  it  speaks  to  him  in  vain  or  uses  a 
voice  that  fails  to  reach  him.  Once  the  present 
writer  was  talking  with  a  friend  who  has  equal  fame 
as  a  statesman  and  a  man  of  letters,  and  he  said, 
'Every  day  I  live.  Politics,  which  are  affairs  of 
Man  and  Time,  interest  me  less,  while  Theology, 
which  is  an  affair  of  God  and  Eternity,  interests  me 
more.'  As  with  him,  so  with  many,  though  the  many 
feel  that  their  interest  is  in  theology  and  not  in  dogma. 
Dogma,  they  know,  is  but  a  series  of  resolutions 
framed  by  a  council  or  parliament,  which  they  do 
not  respect  any  the  more  because  the  parliament  was 
composed  of  ecclesiastically-minded  persons ;  while  the 
theology  which  so  interests  them  is  a  discourse  touch- 
ing God,  though  the  Being  so  named  is  the  God  man 
conceived  as  not  only  related  to  himself  and  his  world 
but  also  as  rising  ever  higher  with  the  notions  of  the 
self  and  the  world.  Wise  books,  not  in  dogma  but  in 
theology,  may  therefore  be  described  as  the  supreme 

281428 


GENERAL  TNTRODUCTION 

need  of  our  day,  for  only  such  can  save  us  from  much 
fanaticism  and  secure  us  in  the  full  possession  of  a 
sober  and  sane  reason. 

Theology  is  less  a  single  science  than  an  ency- 
clopaedia of  sciences;  indeed  all  the  sciences  which 
have  to  do  with  man  have  a  better  right  to  be  called 
theological  than  anthropological,  though  the  man  it 
studies  is  not  simply  an  individual  but  a  race.  Its 
way  of  viewing  man  is  indeed  characteristic ;  from  this 
have  come  some  of  its  brighter  ideals  and  some  of  its 
darkest  dreams.  The  ideals  are  all  either  ethical  or 
social,  and  would  make  of  earth  a  heaven,  creating 
fraternity  amongst  men  and  forming  all  states  into  a 
goodly  sisterhood ;  the  dreams  may  be  represented  by 
doctrines  which  concern  sin  on  the  one  side  and  the 
will  of  God  on  the  other.  But  even  this  will  cannot 
make  sin  luminous,  for  were  it  made  radiant  with 
grace,  it  would  cease  to  be  sin. 

These  books  then, — which  have  all  to  be  written  by 
men  who  have  lived  in  the  full  blaze  of  modern  light, 
— though  without  having  either  their  eyes  burned 
out  or  their  souls  scorched  into  insensibility, — are  in- 
tended to  present  God  in  relation  to  Man  and  Man 
in  relation  to  God.  It  is  intended  that  they  begin,  not 
in  date  of  publication,  but  in  order  of  thought,  with  a 
Theological  Encyclopaedia  which  shall  show  the  circle 
of  sciences  co-ordinated  under  the  term  Theology, 
though  all  will  be  viewed  as  related  to  its  central  or 
main  idea.  This  relation  of  God  to  human  know- 
ledge will  then  be  looked  at  through  mind  as  a  com- 
munion of  Deity  with  humanity,  or  God  in  fellowship 


GENERAL  INTEODUCTION 

with  concrete  man.  On  this  basis  the  idea  of  Revela- 
tion will  be  dealt  with.  Then,  so  far  as  history  and 
philology  are  concerned,  the  two  Sacred  Books,  which 
are  here  most  significant,  will  be  viewed  as  the  scholar, 
who  is  also  a  divine,  views  them;  in  other  words, 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  regarded  as  human 
documents,  will  be  criticised  as  a  literature  which 
expresses  relations  to  both  the  present  and  the  future  ; 
that  is,  to  the  men  and  races  who  made  the  books, 
as  well  as  to  the  races  and  men  the  books  made. 
The  Bible  will  thus  be  studied  in  the  Semitic  family 
which  gave  it  being,  and  also  in  the  Indo-European 
families  which  gave  to  it  the  quality  of  the  life  to 
which  they  have  attained.  But  Theology  has  to  do 
with  more  than  sacred  literature;  it  has  also  to  do 
with  the  thoughts  and  life  its  history  occasioned. 
Therefore  the  Church  has  to  be  studied  and  presented 
as  an  institution  which  God  founded  and  man  ad- 
ministers. But  it  is  possible  to  know  this  Church 
only  through  the  thoughts  it  thinks,  the  doctrines 
it  holds,  the  characters  and  the  persons  it  forms,  the 
people  who  are  its  saints  and  embody  its  ideals  of 
sanctity,  the  acts  it  does,  which  are  its  sacraments, 
and  the  laws  it  follows  and  enforces,  which  are  its 
polity,  and  the  young  it  educates  and  the  nations  it 
directs  and  controls.  These  are  the  points  to  be  pre- 
sented in  the  volumes  which  follow,  which  are  all  to  be 
occupied  with  theology  or  the  knowledge  of  God  and 
His  ways. 

A,  M.  F. 
*0.' 


PREFACE 

The  main  objects  of  this  volume  are  threefold.  1  Firstly, 
to  vindicate  for  rehgious  Faith  its  true  dignity  as 
a  normal  and  healthy  part  of  human  nature.  Next, 
to  insist  that  Faith  demands  the  actual  reality  of  its 
objects,  and  can  never  be  content  with  a  God  who  is 
only  an  ideal.  Lastly,  to  show  in  detail  how  most  of  the 
errors  and  defects  in  rehgious  behef  have  been  due  to  a 
tendency  to  arrest  the  development  of  Faith  prematurely, 
by  annexing  it  to  some  one  faculty  to  the  exclusion  of 
others,  or  by  resting  on  given  authority.  The  true 
goal  is  an  unified  experience  which  will  make  authority 
no  longer  external.  This  scheme  has  compelled  me  to 
state,  far  too  briefly  and  dogmatically,  my  grounds  of 
disagreement  with  certain  religious  opinions  which  are 
widely  held,  such  as  the  infallibility  of  *  the  hving  voice 
of  the  Church,'  and  the  finality  of  the  appeal  to  Holy 
Scripture,  and  also  with  those  religious  philosophies  which 
make  religion  exclusively  an  affair  of  the  will,  or  the  in- 
tellect, or  the  aesthetic  sense.  My  criticisms  of  these  various 
theories  are  all  intended  to  show  the  errors  which  result 
from  a  premature  synthesis.  Faith  claims  the  whole  man, 
and  all  that  God's  grace  can  make  of  him.  If  any  part  of 
ourselves  is  left  outside  our  religion,  our  theory  of  Faith 
is  sure  to  be  partly  vitiated  by  the  omission ;  and  con- 
versely, an  inadequate  theory  of  Faith  is  likely  to  be 
reflected  in  one-sided  or  distorted  practice. 

When  we  try  to  analyse  the  contents  of  Faith,  after 
claiming  for  it  this  very  comprehensive  range,  we  must 


a  FAITH 

be  prepared  for  the  criticism  that  we  have  given  only 
bare  outlines,  or  else  that  we  have  left  rival  constructions 
side  by  side  in  the  form  of  patent  inconsistencies.  Foi 
we  cannot  hope  to  understand  and  co-ordinate  all  the 
highest  experiences  of  the  human  spirit.  And  our  own 
generation,  it  seems  to  me,  is  not  called  upon  even  to 
attempt  any  ambitious  construction.  We  must  be 
content  to  clear  the  site  for  a  new  building,  and  to  get  the 
materials  ready.  The  wise  master-builder  is  not  yet 
among  us.  '  Revivals  '  are  only  a  stop-gap  ;  they  create 
nothing.  They  recover  for  us  parts  of  our  spiritual  heritage 
which  were  in  danger  of  being  lost,  and  having  achieved 
this,  they  have  done  their  work.  The  words  CathoUc 
and  Protestant  are  much  Uke  the  words  Whig  and  Tory 
in  politics.  They  are  the  names  of  obsolescent  distinc- 
tions, survivals  of  old-world  struggles.  When  the  next 
constructive  period  comes,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  spiritual 
Latin  empire  and  the  Teutonic  revolt  against  it  belong 
to  past  history.  Already  the  crucial  question  is,  not 
whether  Europe  shall  be  Catholic  or  Protestant,  but 
whether  Christianity  can  come  to  terms  with  the  awakening 
self-consciousness  of  modem  civilisation,  equipped  with 
a  vast  mass  of  new  scientific  knowledge,  and  animated  for 
the  first  time  by  ideals  which  are  not  borrowed  from 
classical  and  Hebrew  antiquity. 

The  great  danger  in  our  path,  I  venture  to  think,  comes 
from  the  democratisation  of  thought,  which  has  affected 
religion,  ethics,  philosophy,  and  sociology — in  fact,  almost 
every  department  of  mental  activity  except  natural 
science.  We  see  its  results  in  hysterical  sentimentalism, 
which  is  the  great  obstacle  in  the  way  of  using  organised 
effort  for  social  amelioration.  We  see  them  in  the  frank 
adoption  of  materialistic  standards,  such  as  the  pleasure 
and  pain  calculus,  as  soon  as  we  leave  the  region  of  abstract 
speculation.  And  in  philosophy  it  is  impossible  to  miss 
the   connection   between   the  new  empiricism,   with  its 


PREFACE  Tii 

blatant  contempt  for  idealism,  whether  of  the  ancient 
or  modem  type,  and  the  democratic  claim  to  decide  all 
things  in  heaven  and  earth  by  popular  vote.  It  is  possible 
to  sympathise  thoroughly  with  the  spread  of  education, 
and  yet  to  be  aware  of  the  enormous  dangers  to  civilisation 
which  the  false  theory  of  natural  equality  brings  with  it. 
It  has  bred  a  dislike  of  intellectual  superiority,  and  a 
reluctance  to  allow  reason  and  knowledge  to  arbitrate  on 
burning  questions.  Everywhere  we  find  the  praises  of 
feeling  or  instinct  sung,  and  the  dangers  of  intellectualism 
exposed.  Now  instinct  is  the  tendency  in  humanity  to 
persistence,  reason  is  the  tendency  to  variation.  Most 
variations,  we  are  reminded,  fail  to  establish  themselves  ; 
instinct  is  therefore  the  safer  guide.  But  the  tendency 
to  variation  is  just  what  has  raised  man  above  the  lower 
animals  ;  it  is  the  condition  of  progress.  And  in  civilised 
man  reason  has  largely  displaced  instinct,  which  is  no 
longer  so  trustworthy  as  in  the  brutes.  Since  this  process 
is  certain  to  go  further,  distrust  of  reason  is  suicidal,  and 
to  exclude  it  from  matters  of  Faith  must  be  disastrous. 
I  believe  that  the  Kantian  antithesis  between  the  specula- 
tive and  practical  reason  is  wholly  fallacious,  a  residuum 
of  the  dualism  which  Kant  found  dominant  in  philosophy 
and  failed  to  overcome.  If  this  dualism  is  abandoned,  the 
contrast  between  Faith  and  knowledge  falls  with  it.  And 
yet  the  temptation  to  '  heal  slightly '  the  wounds  of 
religion  by  reverting  to  this  separation  of  Faith  from  fact 
has  proved  irresistible  to  very  many,  and  I  beUeve  that  it 
is  a  main  source  of  the  notorious  inefficacy  of  our  apolo- 
getics. The  intellectual  difficulties  raised  by  science  are 
not  popular,  and  we  are  tempted  to  override  them  because 
the  masses  are  still  ignorant  and  superstitious ;  but  I 
beheve  that  here  is  still  our  great  problem,  and  that  we 
shall  do  well  to  agree  with  our  adversary  quickly,  while 
we  are  in  the  way  with  him. 

This  is  not  the  kind  of  intellectualism  which  paralyses 


vui  FAITH 

action.  To  escape  this,  it  is  only  necessary  to  remember 
that,  in  the  hfe  of  man,  thought  and  action  are  equally 
important.  The  normal  course  of  all  experience  is  ex- 
pansion followed  by  concentration.  Ideals  are  painted 
by  imaginative  thought,  but  realised  only  in  action. 
Character  is  consolidated  thought.  Action  and  contem- 
plation must  act  and  react  upon  each  other ;  otherwise 
our  actions  will  have  no  soul,  and  our  thoughts  no  body. 
This  is  the  great  truth  which  the  higher  religions  express 
in  their  sacraments.  A  sacrament  is  more  than  a  symbol. 
The  perception  of  symbols  leads  us  from  the  many  to  the 
one,  from  the  transitory  to  the  permanent,  but  not  from 
appearance  to  reality.  This  belongs  to  the  sacramental 
experience,  which  is  symbolism  retranslating  itself  into 
concrete  action,  returning  to  the  outer  world  and  to 
mundane  interests ;  but  in  how  different  a  manner  from 
our  earlier  superficial  experience  !  The  formula  '  From 
symbol  to  sacrament '  completes  and  Christianises  the 
Platonic  (or  Plotinian)  scheme,  and  gives  the  mystic  a 
rule  of  life.  *  Are  we  not  here  to  make  the  transitory 
permanent  ?  '  asks  Goethe.  '  This  we  can  only  do  if 
we  know  how  to  value  both.'  There  are  two  essential 
movements  in  the  spiritual  life  :  one  which  finds  God  in 
the  world,  mainly  through  thought  and  feeling ;  the 
other  which  re-finds  the  world  in  God,  mainly  through 
moral  action.  The  former  reaches  permanence  through 
change,  the  latter  change  through  permanence.  So  the 
spiral  goes  on,  in  ever- diminishing  circles  (gyrans  gyrando 
vadit  Spiritus),  till  in  heaven,  we  may  be  sure,  the  dis- 
harmony between  thought  and  action  is  finally  attuned. 

Note. — ^This  book  is  an  expansion  of  ten  lectures  which 
were  delivered  in  London  on  the  Jowett  Foundation,  in 
the  early  months  of  this  year.  For  this  reason,  the  form 
of  lectures  has  been  adhered  to  throughout. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I 
'faith'  as  a  religious  term,  1 

CHAPTER  II 

FAITH  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM — Continued,        ,        ...      24 

CHAPTER  III 

I  THE   PRIMARY   GROUND   OF   FAITH,      .  ,  ,  .  ,  .41 


CHAPTER  IV 

FAITH    AS   PURE   FEELING, 55 


CHAPTER  V 

AUTHORITY   AS   A   GROUND   OF  FAITH,  .  ,  ,  ,  ,72 


CHAPTER  VI 

AUTHORITY   AS  A   GROUND   OF   F AlTH—COntinuedj      ...         87 

CHAPTER  VII 

AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH — Continued,     .         .        .     107 


CHAPTER  VIII 

I  AUTHORITY   BASED   ON   JESUS  CHRIST, 124 
■       ■ 


Z  FAITH 

PAOl 

CHAPTER  IX 

FAITH   AS  AN   ACT   OF   WILL, 140 

CHAPTER  X 

FAITH   BASED   ON   PRACTICAL   NEEDS — MODERNISM,     .  ,  .      161 

CHAPTER  XI 

FAITH   AND   REASON, 178       ^ 

CHAPTER  XII 

THB  .fiSTHETIC   GROUND   OF   FAITH, 203 

CHAPTER  XIII 

FAITH   AS   HARMONIOUS   SPIRITUAL   DEVELOPMENT,    .  •  •      223 

BIBLIOQRAFUY,  •••••••••      243 

INDEX,       .•••••.  t  t  •  •      245 


FAITH   AND    ITS   PSYCHOLOGY 

CHAPTEE  I 

•faith*  as  a  religious  term 
(a)  In  the  Bible 

PROPOSE  to  consider  the  first  of  the  theological  virtues, 
in  order  to  determine,  if  possible,  in  what  it  consists.  I 
will  not  begin  by  attempting  a  definition  of  '  Faith  ' ;  but 
a  brief  indication  of  the  sense  in  which  the  word  will  be 
used  in  the  course  of  the  discussion  seems  desirable. 
Broadly  speaking,  when  we  use  the  word  Faith,  without 
special  reference  to  religion,  we  mean,  either  the  holding 
for  true  of  something  which  is  not  already  verified  by 
experience  or  demonstrated  by  logical  conclusion,^  or  con- 
fidence in  the  wisdom  and  integrity  of  a  person.  In  the 
former  sense,  the  corresponding  verb  is  *  believe,'  in  the 
latter  it  is  *  trust.'  In  the  former  sense,  the  conception 
of  Faith  is  independent  of  the  character  or  quality  of  the 
thing  believed.  I  may  believe  in  a  God  or  in  a  devil ;  in 
the  habitability  of  Mars  or  in  the  man  in  the  moon  ;  or  I 
may  believe  that  if  I  make  one  of  a  party  of  thirteen  at 
dinner  it  will  be  a  good  speculation  to  insure  my  life.  The 
grossest  superstition  might  be  called  Faith  in  this  sense. 
But  in  religious  language,  to  which  the  word  more  properly 
belongs,  Faith  has  a  more  limited  and  a  more  dignified 
meaning.  *  It  is  the  general  expression  for  subjective 
religion.*  ^    It  is  used  for  conviction  as  to  certain  ultimate 

1  Cf.  Fechner,  Die  drei  Motive  und  OrUnde  des  Olaubens,  p,  1, 
•  Dorner. 


i  FAITH  [CH. 

facts  relating  to  the  order  of  the  universe  and  our  place  in 
it.  And  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel  that  this  conviction  is 
not  the  result  of  a  purely  intellectual  Judgment,  but  has  a 
more  vital  origin.  It  involves  an  eager  and  loyal  choice,  a 
resolution  to  abide  by  the  hypothesis  that  the  nature  of 
things  is  good,  and  on  the  side  of  goodness.  That  is  to 
say,  Faith,  in  the  religious  sense,  is  not  simply  belief ;  it 
is  inseparable  from  the  sister  virtues  of  hope  and 
love.^ 

After  this  preliminary  statement  about  the  meaning  of 
the  word,  I  will  proceed  to  sketch  the  historical  growth  of 
*  Faith  *  as  a  theological  concept.  For  it  is  a  complex  idea 
and  has  a  history. 

Let  us  take  first  the  history  of  the  Greek  words  Trio-rts  and 
7n<TT€V€Lv.  Iii(TTLS  mcaus  thc  trust  which  we  place  in  any 
person  or  thing,  and  the  conviction,  or  persuasion,  which  we 
hold  about  any  subject.^  Less  frequently,  it  means  fidelity, 
and  so  the  pledge  of  fidelity,  acquiring  the  meaning  of 
'promise,  security.  ^Eschylus  {Frag.  276)  has  ovk  dv8ph<s 
opKoi  ttiVtis,  a  a.  a.'  opKwv  av-qp  \  and  TrtVTts  became  a 
common   technical  term  for    *  proof.'  *     The  word  first 

occurs  in  Hesiod — Trio-rtis  yap  rot  o/iws  koI  diria-Tiai  wAco-ai/ 
avBpas,  i.e.  *  in  money  matters  be  neither  confiding  nor 
suspicious ' ;  while  Theognis  has  learned  by  experience 
that  it  is  safest  to  trust  nobody  :  ttiVtci  xprniar'  oAeo-o-a, 
diTLQ-riy  8'  tVawo-a.  Li  the  first-mentioned  sense  it  is 
opposed  to  knowledge,  and  is  thus  almost  a  synonym  of 
So^a,  though  TTto-Tis  could  never  (like  86^a)  be  contrasted 

with  dX-jOeta,  or  v6r](TLS,  but  only  with  cttio-tt^/xi^,  or  yvQa-is. 

Very  instructive  is  Plato  {Rep.  10.  601) ;    tov  avrov  dpa 

(TKevov^  6  pL€V  7rotrjTY)s  triu-TLV  opOrjv  e^ei  Trepl  /caAXovs  t«  Kai 
rrovrjpta^^  ^vv(i)v  tQ   eiSori  Kal  dvayKalo/xevo^  (Jkouciv  irapa  tov 

1  On  the  connection  between  Faith  and  Hope,  cf.  Newman,  Lectures  on 
Justification,  p.  256  n.  '  Luther  and  Calvin  both  virtually  grant  that  faith 
and  hope  are  inseparable,  or  parts  of  one  thiu^,  though  Luther  (and  perhapa 
Calvin)  denies  this  of  faith  and  love.'    Cf.  p.  16. 

•  Cremer,  Bxblico-Theologieal  Lexicon,  p.  495. 

*  Lightfoot,  GcUatians,  p.  156. 


l]  'FAITH'  AS  A  KELIGIOUS  TEEM  9 

€t8oTos,  o  Se  xpcofxevos  lirKTTrnx'qv  (*  though  the  implement  is 
the  same,  the  maker  will  have  only  a  correct  belief  about 
the  beauty  or  badness  of  it  .  .  .  whereas  the  user  will 
have  knowledge ').  IltcrTtg  is  not  necessarily  weak  con- 
viction, but  it  is  unverified  conviction.  As,  however, 
all  conviction  should  seek  to  verify  itself,  it  may  be  called 
incomplete  science.  Plato  {Rep.  6.  511  ;  7.  533)  gives  us 
two  divisions  of  the  mind,  intelligence  (voiyo- is)  and  opinion 
(So^a),  each  having  two  subdivisions.  The  four  divisions 
thus  produced  are  science(€7rto-T7J/x7^),understanding(Stavoia), 
belief  (or  faith  or  persuasion — ttio-tis),  and  the  perception  of 
images  (etKao-ia).  And  he  says  that  as  being  is  to  becom- 
ing, so  is  intelligence  to  opinion  ;  and  as  intelligence  is  to 
opinion,  so  is  science  to  belief,  and  understanding  to  the 
perception  of  images.  Faith,  for  Plato,  is  a  mental  condi-\ 
tion  which  still  takes  the  visible  and  opinable  for  true ;  \ 
though  it  possesses  a  higher  degree  of  clearness  than  eiKaa-ia.  \ 
It  is  a  stepping-stone  to  true  knowledge.  I 

Ilto-Tts  is  used  in  classical  Greek  of  belief  in  the  gods ; 
generally  {e.g.  Eur.  Med.  414)  of  confidence  in  them  rather 
than  of  belief  in  their  existence  ;  but  examples  of  the  other 
sense  are  not  wanting.  By  the  time  of  Plutarch,  Greek 
thought  was  already  familiar  with  the  idea  of  '  Faith '  as 
that  which  guards  a  traditional  deposit  of  divine  truth. 

Cf.  Mor.  756  B.  :  dpKel  rj  TrdrpLos  Kal  iraXaid  ttlo-tls,  ^S  ovk 
ecTTtv  eLTretv  ov8'  dvevpeiv  T€KnypLov  kvapykdTepov.     *  The  ancient 

ancestral  Faith  is  sufficient,  than  which  it  is  impossible  to 
mention,  or  to  discover,  anything  clearer.  If  [he  continues] 
this  common  foundation  for  the  pious  life  is  disturbed  and 
shaken  at  any  point,  the  whole  becomes  insecure  and 
suspected.' 

The  verb  Trto-rcveii',  when  used  in  relation  to  persons, 
seems  to  have  expressed  a  somewhat  stronger  emotion 
than  the  substantive  Trto-rts,  and  accordingly  it  was  not 
much  used  in  classical  Greek  of  mere  belief  in  the  existence 
of  gods.     For  this  belief  vop-i^av  was  the  regular  word, 


4  FAITH  [cm. 

indicating  acceptance  of  statutory  beliefs  rather  than  any 
warmer  sentiment.  At  the  beginning  of  the  Memorabilia, 
Socrates  is  accused  of  not  '  believing  in  '  (i^o/xi^eu )  the  gods 
whom  the  city  worships,  and  Xenophon  replies  that 
since  he  certainly  trusted  in  the  gods,  how  can  it  be  true 
that  he  did  not  believe  in  them  ?  So  a  distinction  is  recog- 
nised which  is  of  great  importance  in  the  history  of 
Faith. 

In  the  later  Platonists,  we  have  a  doctrine  of  Faith 
which  closely  resembles  that  which  I  shall  advocate  in 
these  lectures.  The  nature  of  God,  says  Plotinus,  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  and  perhaps  impossible  to  define.  But 
we  are  sure  of  His  existence,  because  we  experience,  in  our 
inmost  being,  expressible  and  definable  impressions  when 
we  come  near  to  Him,  or  rather  when  He  comes  near  to 
us.  The  ardent  desire  with  which  we  turn  towards  Him 
is  accompanied  by  a  pain  caused  by  the  consciousness  of 
something  lacking  in  ourselves  ;  we  feel  that  there  is 
something  wanting  to  our  being.  It  must  be  by  His 
presence  in  our  souls  that  God  reveals  Himself  to  us,  for 
we  have  no  means  of  knowing  things  except  by  something 
analogous  to  contact.  The  light  of  God's  presence  is 
brighter  than  the  light  of  science  or  reason.  But  none  can 
see  it  who  is  not  made  like  to  God,  and  whose  being  is  not, 
like  that  of  God,  brought  to  an  inner  unity.  Elsewhere, 
Plotinus  explains  Faith  as  a  kind  of  spiritual  perception, 
as  opposed  to  demonstration  (aTroSeiJis),  which  is  the  result 
of  reasoning.^ 

'in  Hebrew,  the  verb  *  trust '  or  '  believe  '  is  connected 
with  words  meaning  '  support '  and  '  nourish  '  ;  and  the 
fundamental  idea  is  stability,  trustworthiness.  *  Whatever 
holds,  is  steady,  or  can  be  depended  upon,  whether  a  wall 
which  securely  holds  a  nail  (Isa.  xxii.  23,  25),  or  a  brook 
which  does  not  fail  (Jer.  xvi.  18),  or  a  kingdom  which  is 
firmly  established  (2  Sam.  vii.  16),  or  an  assertion  which  has 
I  Cf.  Plotinus,  Enneads,  v.  5,  11 ;  vi.  7,  24-26 ;  vi.  9,  4. 


I 


I.]  'FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  5 

been  verified  (Gen.  xlii.  20),  or  a  covenant  which  endures 
for  ever  (Ps.  Ixxxix.  28),  or  a  heart  found  faithful  (Neh. 
ix.  8),  or  a  man  who  can  be  trusted  (Neh.  xiii.  13),  or  God 
Himself  who  keeps  covenant  (Deut.  vii.  9),  is  *  faithful.'  ^ 
The  difference  between  '  believing  in '  (placing  trust  in) 
and  simple  credence  is  marked  in  the  Old  Testament  by 
different  prepositions  following  the  verb.  It  cannot  be 
said  that  the  verb  is  very  common  in  the  Old  Testament 
in  a  religious  sense  ;  and  there  is  in  Biblical  Hebrew  no 
substantive  properly  meaning  '  Faith  '  in  the  active  sense. 
Accordingly,  the  Revised  Version  only  admits  the  sub- 
stantive Faith  in  two  places  (Deut.  xxxii.  20,  and  Hab.  ii.  4). 
These  are  not  translations  of  the  same  Hebrew  word.  In 
Deut.  xxxii.  20,  the  words  are  :  '  they  are  a  very  froward 
generation,  children  in  whom  is  no  Faith.'  Here  one  may 
doubt  whether  the  meaning  is  not  simply,  *  they  cannot  be 
trusted.'  In  Habakkuk,  however,  the  active  sense  is 
apparently  intended  :  '  the  just  shall  live  by  his  faith '  ; 
but  even  here  the  sense  is  disputed,  and  the  margin  of  the 
Revised  Version  has  '  in  his  faithfulness.'  I  think,  however, 
that  the  marginal  rendering,  though  more  in  accordance 
with  the  usage  of  the  word,  gives  a  less  satisfactory  sense, 
because  the  context  shows  that  a  contrast  is  being  drawn 
between  the  arrogant  self-sufficiency  of  the  Chaldaean  and 
the  humble  trust  in  God  of  the  '  just.'  We  may  perhaps, 
then,  hold  that  in  this  one  passage  of  the  Old  Testament 
we  have  the  word  Faith  used  in  something  like  its  full 
Christian  or  Evangelical  meaning,  as  an  enduring  attitude 
of  the  mind  and  heart  towards  God. 

The  notion  of  Faith,  or  rather,  faithfulness,  in  the  Old 
Testament  is  largely  determined  by  the  idea  of  a  covenant 
between  God  and  His  people.  Faith,  trust,  or  faithfulness 
belongs  to  the  parties  to  a  covenant ;  it  has  no  meaning 
outside  that  relation.  The  covenant  was  made  between 
God  and  His  people  collectively  ;   individuals  were  parties 

1  Warfield  in  Hastings's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  s.  v.  Faith. 


6  FAITH  [CH. 

to  it  as  members  of  the  favoured  nation.^  Faith,  or  faith- 
fulness, is  the  observance  of  a  right  attitude  towards  the 
covenant  with  God — it  is  the  conscientious  observance  of 
the  human  side  of  the  covenant,  the  divine  side  of  which 
is  grace  and  mercy.  We  may  trace  a  development  in  the 
Jewish  ideas  about  this  covenant.  With  the  decay  of  the 
national  fortunes  Faith  became  more  spiritual  and  more 
individualistic.  It  became  finally  the  mental  attitude  of 
those  who  '  waited  for  the  consolation  of  Israel,'  trusting 
in  promises  which  seemed  every  year  further  from  their 
fulfilment. 

The  Septuagint  was  not  able  to  preserve  the  distinction, 
above  referred  to,  between  '  to  trust  to  '  and  '  to  trust  in.' 
It  usually  renders  both  by  Trta-TeveLv  with  the  dative.  Nor 
can  the  Greek  reproduce  all  the  meaning  of  the  Hebrew 
words.     It  wavers  in  translating  the  Hebrew  word  for 

*  trustworthiness,'  the  nearest  equivalent  to  Faith,  and  the 
corresponding  adjective,  rendering  them  sometimes  by 
dXrjOeia,  dkrjdLvos,  and  somctimes  by  Trto-rts  and  kindred 
adjectives.     In  Isa.  vii.  9,  there  is  a  kind  of  play  on  words. 

*  If  ye  be  not  firm  *  (in  Faith),  '  ye  shall  surely  not  be  made 
firm  '  (in  fact)  ;  or,  *  If  ye  hold  not  fast,  ye  shall  not  stand 
fast.'  This  is  lost  in  translation.  In  the  important  verse, 
Hab.  ii.  4,  the  Septuagint  manifestly  misunderstands  the 
original,  translating  6  SiKaios  €k  iria-Tem  fxov  ^vJ(r€Tai  =  *  the 
just  shall  live  through  my  faithfulness  (to  my  covenant).' 
Still,  the  word  jna-Tiveiv  is  satisfactory,  as  it  has  the  right 
association  with  moral  trust,  as  well  as  with  what  may 
be  called  the  earlier  Greek  associations  of  Trto-Tts,  as  opposed 
to  iTTicrrriixri. 

Philo's  notion  of  Faith  is  characteristic  of  his  position  as 
a  mediator  between  Jewish  and  Greek  thought.  As  a  Jew, 
he  emphasises  trust  as  determining  Faith  ;  but  his  philo- 
sophy leads  him  to  single  out  the  unchangeableness  of  God 
almost  exclusively  as  the  ground  and  object  of  Faith. 

>  A.  B.  Davidson,  The  Theology  of  the  Old  Testament,  p.  280. 


I.]  *  FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  7 

There  is  not  a  great  deal  about  Faith  in  his  writings  :  what 
there  is,  is  chiefly  with  reference  to  the  standard  case  of 
Abraham's  Faith.  '  Abraham,'  he  says,  '  saw  into  the 
unfixedness  and  unsettledness  of  material  being,  when  he 
recognised  the  unfaltering  stability  which  attends  true 
being,  and  to  which  he  is  said  to  have  completely  trusted.' 
*  He  anchored  himself  firmly  and  unchangeably  on  true 
being  alone.'  *  The  only  thing  stable  is  Faith  toward 
God,  or  toward  true  being.'  ^  Philo's  '  Faith '  is  thus  a 
steady  reliance  on  the  eternal  and  unchangeable  ideas  of 
truth  and  righteousness,  which  lie  behind  the  fleeting  shows 
of  phenomenal  existence.  The  active  sense  has  fairly' 
established  itself,  but  Faith  for  Philo  differs  rather  widely 
from  the  Christian  virtue  in  that  it  is  the  prize  ^  and  not 
the  starting-point  of  the  race,  standing  at  the  end,  not  at 
the  beginning,  of  the  religious  life. 

Sanday  and  Headlam  ^  have  a  valuable  note  on  the  use 
of  the  word  Faith  in  the  apocryphal  literature.  In  the 
Psalms  of  Solomon  it  is  attributed  to  the  Messiah  Himself  ; 
in  the  other  books  it  is  characteristic  of  his  subjects.  Thus 
4  Esdras  vi.  28,  '  florebit  fides  et  vincetur  corruptela '  ; 
vii.  34,  '  Veritas  stabit  et  fides  convalescet.'  In  the 
Apocalypse  of  Baruch  we  have,  '  incredulis  tormentum 
ignis  reservatum.'  In  other  places  we  have  '  Faith  and 
works '  in  combination,  indicating  that  the  discussion  of 
their  relative  merits  did  not  originate  in  the  Christian 
Church. 

We  now  come  to  the  New  Testament.  I  think  that  for 
our  purposes  it  will  be  most  convenient  to  take  the  Synoptic 
Gospels  first,  as  a  record  of  our  Lord's  actual  teaching 
about,  and  attitude  towards,  Faith  ;  the  Pauline  con- 
ception of  Faith  next ;   the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  third  ; 


1  Cf.  E.  A.  Abbott,  Johannine  Vocabulary. 

*  Philo,  De  Praem.  et  Poen.,  ii.  p,  412,  5t8aKTiKy  XPV^^^M-^^^^  ipery  rpdf 
TcKelwffiv  AdXov  alpeTrai  rV  irpbs  tov  Qebp  TricrTir. 

*  On  Eomaus  i.  17. 


8  FAITH  [cH. 

and  the  Johannine  interpretation  of  our  Lord's  teaching 
last.  This  order  is  not  intended  to  imply  any  disparage- 
ment of  the  Fourth  Gospel  as  a  historical  document ;  but 
St.  John  certainly  wrote  for  his  own  generation,  and  it  is 
possible  to  speak  of  a  Johannine  doctrine  of  Faith,  which 
must  not  be  taken  out  of  its  chronological  place. 

The  Triple  Tradition  does  not  agree  in  any  saying  of 
Christ  containing  the  verb  Trto-revctv  ;  and  in  the  use  of  the 
substantive  ttio-tis  the  only  verbatim  agreement  is  '  thy 
faith  hath  saved  thee,'  of  the  woman  with  the  issue  of 
blood.  Nevertheless,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  our  Lord 
spoke  of  '  Faith  '  and  *  believing  '  in  the  technical  religious 
sense  which  is  characteristic  of  the  New  Testament  as  a 
whole.  There  seems  to  be  no  objection  on  linguistic 
grounds.  Not  only  did  the  Hebrew  word  acquire  an 
active  meaning  in  Rabbinical  literature,  but  in  the  Aramaic 
dialect  (according  to  Lightfoot  on  Galatians,  p.  154),  an 
active  form  had  been  developed.  How  far  this  language 
was  original  with  Him,  it  is  difficult  to  say.  It  is  extremely 
probable  that  the  words  were  often  on  the  lips  of  the  simple 
folk  in  Palestine  who  '  waited  for  the  kingdom  of  God.'  We 
have  seen  that  all  was  ready  for  the  richer  doctrine  of  Faith 
which  was  part  of  Christ's  message.  The  devout  country 
people  among  whom  He  was  brought  up  had  not  much  to 
learn  about  confidence  in  God,  about  conviction  of  the 
reality  of  the  unseen,  or  about  patient  waiting  for  the 
consolation  of  Israel. 

In  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  Faith  generally  means  con- 
fidence in  Christ's  power  to  perform  some  particular  thing. 
It  would  be  superfluous  to  enumerate  the  cases  in  which 
Faith  is  mentioned  as  the  condition  of  miracles  of  healing. 
In  these  instances.  Faith  is  simply  the  psychological  state 
which  alone  makes  the  patient  susceptible  to  cures  of  this 
kind.  There  are,  however,  many  passages,  especially  if 
we  add  the  uses  of  the  verb  iria-Tevav  to  those  of  the  sub- 
stantive, in  which  the  wider  sense  of  trustful  self-surrender 


I.]  « FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  9 

to  Christ,  or  to  God,  is  clearly  indicated.  There  is  only- 
one  place  in  the  Synoptics,  I  think  (Matt,  xxiii.  23),  in 
which  TTio-Tt?  means  '  integrity  '  ;  and  so  strong  have  its 
theological  associations  already  become,  that  it  is  never 
used  of  man's  faith  in  man.  When  it  has  an  object,  that 
object  is  in  the  genitive,  as  St.  Mark  xi.  22,  '  have  faith  in 
God  '  ;  not  with  a  preposition  {ev,  ei?,  tt/oos,  eVt)  as  in  the 
Epistles.  But  in  the  large  majority  of  cases,  it  is  used 
absolutely.  When  '  Faith '  is  primarily  expectation  of  a 
miracle,  a  deeper  thought  is  sometimes  present.  In  the 
case  of  the  paralytic,  remission  of  sins  precedes  the  physical 
cure  (Matt.  ix.  1-8)  :  and  in  Luke  vii.  50  the  characteristic 
words,  '  thy  Faith  hath  saved  thee,'  are  used  of  forgiveness 
only,  when  there  has  been  no  miracle.  Our  Lord  must 
have  spoken  much  of  the  moral  force  of  Faith,  of  what  is 
now  sometimes  called  the  dynamic  of  religion.  In  the 
figurative  and  even  hyperbolical  language  which  He  often 
used  in  popular  teaching.  He  said  that  Faith,  though  no 
larger  than  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  can  remove  mountains 
(Matt.  xvii.  20),  a  phrase  which  became  familiar  to  Chris- 
tians (1  Cor.  xiii.  2)  at  a  very  early  date.  Cf.  also  Mark 
ix.  23  :  *  If  thou  canst  believe,  all  things  are  possible  to 
him  that  believeth.'  That  this  Faith  ought  to  be  but  is 
not  always  an  abiding  state  is  shown  by  the  words  to 
Peter  (Luke  xxii.  32),  *  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy 
Faith  fail  not.'  There  are  some  who  '  for  a  while  believe, 
but  in  time  of  temptation  fall  away '  (Matt.  xiii.  20).  In 
Matt.  xvi.  17,  *  These  signs  shall  follow  them  that  believe,' 
we  have  an  approximation  to  the  use  of  the  participle  as  a 
designation  of  the  Christian  society,  '  the  believers,'  which 
we  find  in  the  Acts.^ 

One  passage  in  the  Synoptists  seems  to  me  to  stand  quite 
alone — Luke  xviii.  8.  *  When  the  Son  of  Man  cometh,  shall 

1  It  is  worth  while  also  to  call  attention  to  Matt,  xxiii.  23.  'justice,  mercy 
and  faith.'  Cf.  Micah  ri.  8  of  which  these  words  may  be  a  reminiscence. 
The  third  virtue,  Faith,  is  added  by  Christ. 


10  FAITH  [cH. 

He  find  Faith  *  (or,  the  Faith) '  on  the  earth  ?  *  I  am  unable 
to  understand  these  words  except  in  the  sense  that  though 
God  will  avenge  his  saints  '  speedily  *  (see  the  preceding 
verse),  yet  the  time  will  appear  so  long  before  the  second 
coming  that  the  love  of  many  will  have  waxed  cold. 
'  Faith,'  or  *  the  Faith,*  will  hardly  be  found  on  the  earth. 
1  must  confess  that  the  words  sound  more  like  an  expres- 
sion of  the  discouragement  which  we  know  to  have  been 
felt  by  the  second  and  third  generations  of  Christians,  when 
*  hope  deferred '  of  the  Trapova-ia  was  *  making  the  heart 
sick,'  than  what  we  should  have  expected  to  have  from 
the  lips  of  our  Lord.  If  the  words  are  authentic,  we  must 
take  '  Faith '  (with  the  best  orthodox  commentators)  in 
the  less  natural  sense  of  '  the  necessary  Faith,'  or  *  the 
Faith  that  perseveres  in  prayer.' 

To  sum  up  :  *  Faith,'  and  '  to  believe,'  in  the  Synoptic 
Gospels,  means  a  spirit  of  simple  receptiveness  towards  the 
Messiah  and  His  message,  a  state  of  mind  which,  unlike 
the  righteousness  of  the  Pharisees,  requires  no  previous 
jcourse  of  discipline  in  meritorious  actions.  '  Faith  '  is  the 
primary  motion  of  the  human  spirit  when  brought  into 
contact  with  Divine  truth  and  goodness.  Its  fruits  are 
loyal  self-devotion,  even  unto  death,  complete  renunciation 
of  all  earthly  ties,  in  so  far  as  these  could  come  between 
the  disciple  and  his  Master,  untiring  energy  in  service,  and 
an  enthusiastic  temper,  full  of  love,  joy,  and  peace.  This 
is  really  the  whole  content  of  Faith,  as  preached  by  Jesus 
to  the  simple  folk  whom  He  gathered  round  Him  in  Galilee. 

We  next  turn  to  St.  Paul's  Epistles.  I  do  not  wish  to 
discuss  the  more  technical  theological  problems  connected 
with  the  Pauline  doctrine  of  Faith,  but  only  to  determine 
what  the  word  means  for  him.  One  of  the  most  significant 
passages  is  Gal.  iii.  23,  7r/o5  rod  kXddv  rrjv  ttio-tli',  'before 
the  coming  of  [the]  Faith.'  This  expression  proves  that 
the  Christians  felt  their  *  Faith '  to  be  something  new  in 
the  world ;  as  new  as  their  '  Love,'  for  which  they  required 


I.]  *  FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  11 

an  almost  new  word  in  the  Greek  language,  their  *  Hope,' 
which  the  pagans  conspicuously  lacked  (Eph.  ii.  12),  and 
their  *  Joy,'  which  no  man  could  take  from  them.  The 
coming  of  Christ  was  the  coming  of  [the]  Faith.  The  Acts 
of  the  Apostles  shows  that  the  disciples  soon  began  to  call 
themselves  *  Believers  ' ;  it  was  one  of  the  earliest  names 
of  the  Christian  society.^  Whether,  as  Lightfoot  suggests,^ 
the  name  indicates  '  The  Trusty  '  as  well  as  '  The  Trustful,' 
is  uncertain ;  the  active  meaning  certainly  predominates. 
The  name  was  familiar  to  friends  and  foes  in  the  time  of 
Minucius  Felix,  who  shows  that  it  had  been  Latinised — 
*  pistorum  prsecipuus  et  postremus  philosophus  '  ^ — since 
'  credulus '  was  impossible.  The  pagans  in  the  time  of 
Celsus  employed  it  as  an  opprobrious  term  for  their  oppon- 
ents. In  other  places  St.  Paul  uses  '  the  Faith  '  almost  as 
equivalent  to  the  whole  body  of  Christian  doctrine  and 
practice  (Gal.  i.  23  ;  vi.  10,  tovs  oikciovs  ttjs  irt(rTca>s= 
the  Church  ;  Rom.  xii.  3,  6  ;  Eph.  iv.  1 3.) 

The  coming  of  Christ  was  the  beginning  of  the  dispensa- 
tion of  Faith,  and  the  new  virtue  had  found  a  name  both 
in  Greek  and  Aramaic.  For  the  Jews,  a  bridge  was  found 
in  the  text  about  '  faithful  Abraham,'  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  made  to  support  a  heavy  superstructure  of 
doctrine  even  by  Philo,  and  was  discussed  with  equal 
eagerness  in  the  Rabbinical  schools.*  The  meaning  of 
Faith  was  being  defined  by  controversy,  and  the  concept 
was  as  yet  so  fluid  that  St.  Paul  and  St.  James  can  flatly 
contradict  each  other  in  words  without  differing  much  in 
meaning. 

St.  Paul's  theology,  we  are  now  beginning  to  see,  must 
be  interpreted  by  what  we  know  of  his  personal  religious 
experiences,  which  he  naturally  expounds  by  the  help  of 
current    theological    ideas    and    conceptions.     Put    very 

1  Harnack,  Expansion  of  Christianity^  ii.  6, 
'  Lightfoot,  Galatians,  p.  157. 

•  There  is  a  play  on  words  here,  between  pistus  and  pistor.    See  the  con- 
text, Octavius,  14.  *  Lightfoot,  Qalatians,  p.  159. 


12  FAITH  [CH. 

shortly,  his  doctrine  of  justification  by  Faith  was  arrived 
at  somewhat  in  this  way.  Jewish  thought  knew  of  two, 
and  only  two,  roads  to  salvation.  One  was  by  natural 
descent  from  Abraham.  This  belief  was  discredited  for 
various  reasons.  It  was  unethical ;  it  was  falsified  by 
history  ;  and  it  was  contradicted  by  religious  experience. 
The  other  was  by  righteousness.  This  St.  Paul  had  tried 
and  found  wanting.  Justifying  righteousness  was  un- 
attainable ;  the  verdict  against  the  claimant  was  a  fore- 
gone conclusion.  The  good  news  of  the  Gospel  was  the 
assurance  of  a  free  pardon  to  all  who  would  '  believe.' 
God  will  reckon  their  '  Faith  '  as  righteousness.  Remem- 
bering the  other  and  older  theory  as  to  the  title  to  salvation, 
descent  from  Abraham,  he  represents  this  saving  grace  also 
as  *  adoption  *  to  sonship,  through  faith  in  Christ  Jesus 
(Gal.  iii.  26).  The  true  Israel,  then,  are  the  adopted  '  chil- 
dren of  Abraham,'  and  their  faith  in  Christ  is  accepted 
instead  of  the  impossible  requirement  of  legal  righteousness. 
The  Christian,  therefore,  has  a  double  title  to  salvation  : 
he  is  a  son  and  heir  by  adoption,  and,  by  the  free  grace  of 
God  through  Christ,  he  is  accounted  to  have  fulfilled  the 
law  of  righteousness.  The  one  condition  is  '  Faith.'  Now 
what  is  this  Faith  ?  Not  the  mere  fiducia  (subjective 
assurance)  of  Lutheranism,  even  if  this  theory  can  support 
itself  plausibly  by  certain  expressions  in  St.  Paul's  writings. 
We*'must  remember  that  at  this  time  Faith  involved  the 
open  acceptance  of  Christianity,  adhesion,  in  the  face  of 
the  world,  to  a  persecuted  sect.  St.  Paul  never  even  con- 
templated an  inner  state  of  confidence  in  God's  mercies 
through  Christ  that  did  not  exhibit  itself  in  this  overt, 
decisive,  initial  step.  *  If  thou  shalt  confess  with  thy 
mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  believe  in  thine  heart  that 
God  hath  raised  Him  from  the  dead,  thou  shalt  be 
saved.'  ^    And  assuredly  Faith  included  also  a  changed  life 

»  Rom.  X.  9. 


I.]  'FAITH'  AS  A  KELIGIOUS  TERM  13 

as  a  member  of  the  new  society.^  In  short,  we  must 
beware  of  forgetting  the  very  different  terms  on  which  a 
subjective  confidence  in  the  merits  of  Christ's  death  may 
be  held  now  and  in  St.  Paul's  time.  What  St.  Paul  dreads, 
and  protests  against  in  his  Epistles  to  the  Romans  and 
Galatians,  is  a  baptized  Pharisaism  which  would  remain  in 
all  essentials  pre-Christian.  He  is  determined  that  Faith 
shall  not  lose  its  new  active  meaning,  as  a  decisive  moral 
act  of  trust ;  he  dreads  that  it  may  become  again  Jewish 
and  passive,  a  mere  fidelity  to  the  terms  of  a  covenant. 
He  is  fighting  for  the  new  content  of  the  word  Faith,  as  a 
Christian  virtue.  But  it  is  as  a  Christian  virtue  bound 
up  inextricably  with  the  other  Christian  virtues,  and 
especially  with  Love,  which  is  its  proper  activity  or 
€i/6/oycia  (Gal.  V.  6),  that  he  claims  such  importance 
for  it. 

This  consideration,  that '  Faith  '  in  St.  Paul  includes  not 
only  subjective  trust  in  Christ's  promises,  but  all  that  such 
trust  necessarily  led  to,  in  an  honest  and  consistent  man, 
at  that  time,  that  is,  that  it  included  public  relinquish- 
ment of  paganism  or  Judaism,  and  adhesion  to  the  Chris- 
tian Church  at  a  time  when  the  Christians  were  regarded 
as  the  scum  of  the  earth  (1  Cor.  iv.  13),  will  help  us  to 
understand,  in  particular,  what  Faith  in  the  atoning  blood 
of  Christ  meant  for  St.  Paul.  I  will  not  now  discuss  the 
sacrificial  aspect  of  Christ's  death.  But  it  is  right  to  insist 
that  the  key  to  the  whole  of  St.  Paul's  Christology  is  the 
doctrine  of  the  mystical  union  of  the  believer  with  his  Lord, 
which  is  for  him  the  necessary  fulfilment  of  the  life  of^ 
Faith.  To  understand  the  Pauline  doctrine  of  justifica- 
tion by  Faith  as  summed  up  in  such  ideas  as  '  resting  in 
the  finished  work  of  the  Redeemer,'  or  any  other  detach- 
ment of  Christ  for  us  from  Christ  in  us,  is  an  unfortunate 

1  Dobschiitz  {Christian  Life  in  the  Primitive  Church,  p.  368  seq.)  has  justly 
•mphasised  the  remarkable  standard  of  moral  purity  which  was  demanded 
and,  on  the  whole,  attained  in  the  primitive  Church. 


14  FAITH  [CH. 

mistake.  The  *  whole  process  of  Christ '  must  be  ro- 
enacted  in  the  experience  of  the  beUever,  and  the  culmina- 
tion of  the  whole  is  spiritual  crucifixion  and  resurrection. 

*  The   new  and   significant   peculiarity,'  says  Pfleiderer,^ 

*  in  Paul's  conception  of  Faith,  is  the  mystical  union  with 
Christ,  the  self-identification  with  Christ  in  a  fellow- 
ship of  life  and  death.  In  this  unreserved,  self-forgetting 
surrender  of  the  whole  man  to  the  Saviour,  in  which 
the  revelation  of  the  Divine  love,  as  well  as  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  ideal  for  man,  is  beheld  as  a  personal  life, 
the  believer  feels  himself  to  be  '  a  new  creature.  .  .  .  That 
is  expressed  in  the  fine  saying  :  "  It  is  no  longer  I  that  live, 
but  Christ  that  liveth  in  me  ;  and  the  life  that  I  now  live 
in  the  flesh  I  live  in  the  Faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved 
me  and  gave  Himself  for  me."  Life  in  the  Faith  means  the 
same  as  "  Christ  liveth  in  me."  * 

In  Romans  xiv..  Faith  is  represented  as  a  graduated  pro- 
gress in  the  mind  of  Christ.  '  Weakness  in  the  Faith ' 
shows  itself  by  anxiety  to  keep  formal  rules,  by  super- 
stition, in  fact.  *  Faith  to  eat  all  things  '  is  a  strong  Faith. 
So  in  Colossians,  feasts  and  fast-days  are  '  shadows  of  things 
to  come.'  This  chapter  contains  also  the  declaration 
(v.  23),  *  whatever  is  not  of  Faith,  is  sin  ' ;  which  has  been 
taken  out  of  its  context  and  made  to  support  the  conten- 
tion that  *  the  virtues  of  the  heathen  were  splendid  vices,' 
or  that  '  all  works  done  before  Justification  are  sinful.' 
St.  Paul,  however,  appears  only  to  mean  that  in  matters 
of  abstinence  or  indulgence  we  ought  to  have  a  clear 
conscience.  The  half  -  superstitious  man  is  likely  to 
wound  his  conscience,  whether  he  keeps  his  fast  or 
breaks  it.      J 

In  the  well-known  words,  *  We  walk  by  Faith,  not  by 

sight '  (2  Cor.  v.  7),  St.  Paul  means,  as  the  context  shows, 

that  the  form  (crSos)  of  the  exalted  Christ  is  hidden  from 

us.    Faith  is  the  condition  of  our  present  life  (Sid  Trio-Tecus 

1  Primitive  Christianity,  vol.  i.  p.  347. 


1.]  *  FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  15 

vipiTraTovnev),  as  '  seeing  face  to  face  '  will  be  our  condition 
in  the  future  life.  Then  Faith  will  not  be  abolished,  but 
will  become  eternal  (1  Cor.  xiii.  13). 

Faith,  for  St.  Paul,  blends  with  hope,  and  is  almost 
identified  with  it  (Rom.  xv.  13  ;  iv.  18-21  ;  viii.  24).  Hope 
adds  joy  and  peace  to  believing  ;  it  has  a  moral  basis,  and 
may  even  be  identified  with  the  Christ  in  us  (Col.  i.  27). 

One  other  important  aspect  of  Faith  in  St.  Paul's 
Epistles  must  be  mentioned  before  we  pass  on  to  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  In  Faith,  as  St.  Paul  understands 
it,  lie  the  roots  both  of  new  ethical  power  and  of  a  deeper 
knowledge  of  God.^  Practical  and  theoretical  Christianity 
are  both  contained  in  it.  The  Christian  stands  fast  in  the  A 
Faith  (1  Cor.  xvi.  13),  but  also  grows  in  Faith,  and  attains  ' 
the  stature  of  the  perfect  man  by  coming  '  unto  the  unity 
of  the  Faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God ' 
(Eph.  iv.  13).  Behind  the  Rabbinical  subtleties,  which  we 
find  here  and  there  in  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  we  can  trace 
plainly  enough  a  sublime  and  profound  conception  of 
Faith,  which  may  well  be  our  guide  in  our  coming 
investigation. 

The  Author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  has  done  for 
Faith  what  St.  Paul  has  done  for  Love  in  1  Cor.  xiii.  The 
eleventh  chapter  of  the  Epistle  is  a  hymn  in  honour  of 
Faith.     It  begins  with  the  famous  definition  4'o-Ttv  Se  ttlo-tis 

ek-jn^ofievcov    virocTTao-LSj    TTpay/xoLTiov    €X€y\os    ov    fSXiTrofieviov. 

*  Now  Faith  is  the  assurance  of  [or,  the  giving  substance  to] 
things  hoped  for,  the  proving  [or,  test]  of  objects  not 
seen.'  (R.V.)  HtcrTts  has  here  no  article.  This  is  signifi- 
cant ;  for  in  this  Epistle  Faith  is  not  the  Christian  Faith, 
but  a  psychological  faculty.  In  this  sense  it  is  as  wide  as 
the  human  mind,  and  even  Rahab  may  be  adduced  as 
an  example  of  it.  The  meaning  both  of  vTroo-Tao-is  and  of 
IAeyxo5  is  disputed.  For  the  former,  the  Revised  Version 
gives  the  preference  to  *  assurance,'  a  meaning  which  is 

1  Pfleiderer,  ibid.,  p.  350. 


16  FAITH  [CH. 

also  assigned  to  it,  probably  rightly,  in  iii.  14,  *  We  are 
become  partakers  of  Christ  if  we  hold  fast  the  beginning  of 
our  confidence  {rrjv  apx^jv  rrj^  vTrocTTacrcws)  firm  unto  the 
end.'  The  Greek  Fathers  say  that  17  dpxrj  Trj<s  vTroo-Tao-cw? 
is  Faith,  as  the  '  beginning  of  our  true  nature,'  that  which 
causes  us  to  become  what  we  in  truth  are.^     (The  paradox 

is  indicated  by   the   tenses    yeyovafiev,    kavrnp    Karao-xw/ici'.) 

This  is  a  very  interesting  interpretation,  and  the  thought 
is  a  fine  one ;  but  since  the  use  of  vTroo-rao-i?  in  the  sense 
of  '  assurance '  or  *  resolution '  is  well  established  in  later 
Greek,  it  seems  more  natural  to  take  it  so  in  this  place. 
But  we  are  not  therefore  obliged  to  take  viroa-Taa-L's  as 

*  assurance'  in  ch.  xi.  1.    In  i.  3  it  has  the  meaning  of 

*  substance  '  or  '  reality  '  ;  and  all  through  the  Epistle  the 
distinction  between  heaven  and  earth,  between  spirit  and 
flesh,  is  conceived  Platonically  as  that  between  substance 
and  shadow,  truth  and  appearance,  pattern  and  copy. 
Moreover,  the  passages  quoted  to  justify  the  translation 
'assurance'  do  not  convince  me  that  the  unquestioned 
late-Greek  meaning,  '  firm  endurance,'  '  steadfastness,'  is 
sufficient  authority  for  translating  eXirL^oixkytav  viroarTaa-Ls 

*  assurance  with  regard  to  what  is  hoped  for.'  Such  an 
explanation  seems  not  to  have  occurred  to  any  com- 
mentator before  Luther,  and  the  Greek  Fathers  are  not 
lightly  to  be  set  aside  in  such  a  case.  Chrysostom's 
note  is :  *  For  whereas  things  that  are  matters  of  hope 
seem  to  be  unsubstantial.  Faith  gives  them  substance  ; 
or  rather,  does  not  give  it,  but  is  itself  their  being.  For 
instance,  the  resurrection  has  not  taken  place,  and  is  not 
in  substance,  but  Faith  gives  it  reality  {vf^La-Trja-iv)  in  our 
soul.'  If  we  take  it  so,  the  writer  says  that  Faith  gives 
substance,  or  reality,  to  things  which  we  hope  for,  but 
which  have  not  yet  taken  place.  It  does  so  by  raising  us 
above  the  categories  of  time  into  those  of  eternity,  so  that, 

1  The  reader  should  consult  Bishop  Westcott's  edition  of  the  Epistle  to  tht 
Sebreios  for  a  fuller  discussion  of  this  passage. 


I.]  'FAITH'  AS  A  KELIGIOUS  TERM  17 

even  as  Faith  shows  us  that  Christ  offered  Himself  to  God 
'  through  an  eternal  Spirit '  (ix.  14),  in  the  world  of  timeless 
reality,  so  to  the  eye  of  Faith  the  future  is  as  real  as  the 
present.  "EAeyxos  must  correspond  in  meaning  to 
vTrocrraa-Ls,  and  probably  means  *  proof,'  '  test,'  that  which 
establishes  (or  rejects)  the  reality  of  unseen  objects.  Thus 
the  full  meaning  of  this  noble  definition — I  cannot  agree 
with  Westcott's  inference  from  the  order  eo-rti/  Se  Trto-ns 
that  '  the  object  of  the  writer  is  not  to  give  a  formal 
definition  ' — is  that  Faith  is  the  faculty  which  makes  real 
to  us  the  future  and  the  unseen,  and  moreover  enables  us, 
in  this  region,  to  discern  the  true  from  the  false.  '  Things 
which  in  the  succession  of  time  are  still  hoped  for,  have 
a  true  existence  in  the  eternal  order ;  and  this  existence 
Faith  brings  home  to  the  believer  as  a  real  fact.'  (West- 
cott.)  When  we  remember  that  Plato  distinguishes  know- 
ledge (yuaxTLs)  from  opinion  (Soja),  as  being  concerned 
with  reality  and  not  with  appearance,  we  may  say  that 
this  Epistle  claims  for  Faith  the  rank  of  potential  Gnosis, 
instead  of  allying  it  with  opinion,  as  the  classical  usage  of 
TTtcTTts  tended  to  do. 

Dr.  Du  Bose  is  in  substantial  agreement.  '  Beneath  or 
behind  the  things  that  are  seen  and  are  temporal  there  is 
an  Eternal  Unseen.  What  is  it  ?  The  Word  of  God.  If 
that  answer  is  not  true,  there  is  no  object  or  function  of 
Faith,  and  no  religion.  Suppose  it  to  be  true,  and  that  not 
only  is  the  Word  of  God  as  the  reality  of  things  the  true  ob- 
jective matter  of  Faith,  but  that  Faith  is  the  true  subjec- 
tive apprehension  and  possession  of  that  objective  reality, 
does  the  fact  without  us  produce  the  intuition  of  it  within 
us  ;  or  is  the  intuition  itself  the  proper  prius  and  reality  ? 
Does  hypostasis  mean  objective  substance  or  subjective 
assurance  ?  I  ask  simply  to  bring  out  this  fact,  that  in 
the  divine  and  absolute  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  Faith  and 
fact  are  treated  as  having  been  made  one,  as  being  now 
identical.    Faith  is  not  only  assurance  ;   it  is  the  present 

B 


18  FAITH  [CH- 

possession,  the  very  substance  and  reality  of  its  object. 
Assurance  is  substance,  Faith  is  fact,  promise  is  fulfilment, 
hope  is  possession  and  fruition — all  not  so  much  through 
any  inexplicable  virtue  in  Faith  itself,  as  because  Faith  is 
the  laying  hold  of  and  uniting  itself  with  that  Word  of 
God  which  is  at  once  the  substance  of  all  reality  and  the 
light  of  all  truth.'  ^ 

This  notable  chapter  contains  other  important  dicta 
about  Faith.  '  Without  Faith  it  is  impossible  to  please 
Him  ;  for  he  that  cometh  to  God  must  believe  that  He  is, 

/  and  that  He  is  a  rewarder  of  them  that  diligently  seek 

I    Him'  (v.  6).     Faith  demands  the  existence  of  its  Object ; 

/  God  is  a  fact,  not  an  ideal.  Faith  also  demands  that  its 
Object  shall  be  active — that  God  shall  be  experienced,  and 
not  merely  thought  of  as  existing.  Again,  Faith  is  ex- 
plained to  be  '  a  seeing  of  the  invisible '  (v.  27).  '  The 
invisible '  is  God,  as  the  gender  shows.     Faith  is  seeing 

VjGod  during  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  Augustine's  comment 
is  true  and  fine.  '  Errabant  quidem  adhuc  et  patriam 
quaerebant ;  sed  duce  Christo  errare  non  poterant.  Via 
illis  fuit  visio  Dei.''  ^ 

The  doctrine  of  Faith  in  this  Epistle  is  not  at  variance 
with  that  of  St.  Paul,  but  it  is  liberated  from  the  Rabbinical 
form  which  is  the  result  of  St.  Paul's  Jewish  education. 
The  idea  that  Faith  consists  in  accepting  the  free  gift  of 
the  righteousness  of  God,  has  no  place  in  this  Epistle. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  notion  of  Faith  as  exalting  us  above 
the  trammels  of  our  life  in  time,  enabling  us  to  view  history 
as  a  whole,  and  to  assume  a  heroic  attitude  in  face  of  tem- 
poral sufferings  by  regarding  events  sub  specie  ceternitatis, 
is  peculiar  to  this  Epistle,  and  is  a  most  inspiring  thought. 
It  has  affinities  to  Philo's  conception  of  Faith,  and  is,  no 
doubt,  a  line  of  thought  natural  to  Alexandrian  idealism. 
The  Epistle  of  St.  James  contains  an  energetic  protest 

1  Du  Bose,  High  Priesthood  and  Sacrifice,  pp.  224-6  (abridged). 
»  Augustine,  Ad  1  J§h.,  Tract.  7 ;  Westcott  on  Heb.  xi.  27. 


I.]  'FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  19 

against  the  notion  that  '  Faith,'  whether  understood  as 
mere  fiducia  or  mere  orthodoxy,  is  of  any  saving  value 
without  *  works  ' — consistency  of  hfe.  He  uses  '  Faith  ' 
in  a  narrower  sense  than  St.  Paul,  and  insists  passionately 
on  what  to  St.  Paul  would  have  been  a  truism,  that  Faith 
must  be  known  by  its  fruit.  St.  James  was  a  moralist,  and 
would  have  agreed  with  Matthew  Arnold  that  conduct  is 
all  but  an  insignificant  fraction  of  human  life.  The  protest 
was  needed,  but  it  does  not  touch  St.  Paul  or  his  teaching. 
It  is  not  even  certain  that  the  author  of  this  epistle,  who- 
ever he  was,  was  thinking  of  St.  Paul's  teaching  on  the 
subject.  The  relation  of  Faith  and  works  was  a  standing 
thesis  for  discussion  in  Jewish  schools,  and  naturally  was 
also  debated  by  Christians.^  But  though  there  is  no 
contradiction  between  St.  Paul  and  St.  James,  the  protests 
of  the  latter  do  touch  some  post-Reformation  teaching 
about  Faith.  We  cannot  be  surprised  either  at  Luther's 
contemptuous  judgment  of  this  epistle,  or  at  his  subse- 
quent acknowledgment  that  he  had  spoken  too  hastily. 

St.  James's  real  meaning  is  well  brought  out  by  the 
eloquent  Julius  Hare,^  whose  discourses  on  Faith  ought 
never  to  be  forgotten  by  English  theologians.  '  Faith" 
without  works  is  a  dead  Faith,  not  a  living,  a  nominal 
Faith,  not  a  real,  the  shadow  of  Faith,  not  the  substance. 
And  why  is  this,  except  because  Faith,  if  it  be  living,  if  it 
be  real,  if  it  be  substantial,  is  a  practical  principle,  a 
practical  power ;  nay,  of  all  principles,  of  all  powers,  by 
which  man  can  be  actuated,  the  most  practical ;  so  that 
when  it  does  not  show  forth  its  life  by  good  works,  we  may 
reasonably  conclude  that  it  is  dead  ;  just  as  we  infer  that 
a  body  is  dead  when  it  has  ceased  to  move,  or  that  a  tree 
is  dead  when  it  puts  forth  no  leaves.'  ^ 

1  See  Lightfoot,  Oalatians,  p.  157  seq.  ;  Sanday  and  Headlam,  RomanSt 
pp.  104-6.     The  Jewish  discussions  were  based  on  Gen.  xv.  6. 

'  Hare,  The  Victory  of  Faith  and  oth^  Sermons,  p.  36. 

•  The  use  of  irl<ms  in  1  and  2  Peter,  and  in  Jude,  is  not  important  for  this 
discussion.    See  Sanday  and  Headlam,  Romans,  p.  36. 


20  FAITH  [cH 

In  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  Trto-Tis  and  Tna-reviLv  occur 
very  frequently.  With  the  definite  article,  ttlo-tis  means 
^the  Christian  faith  (ch.  vi.  7  ;  xiii.  8  ;  xvi.  5  ;  xxiv.  24). 
On  the  other  hand,  TrX-qpr^s  TriVrew?  means  '  full  of  enthu- 
siasm and  strength  based  on  Faith  in  Jesus  Christ '  (vi.  5  ; 
xi.  24).  '  Faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus,'  in  the  Acts,  involves 
mainly  belief  in  His  resurrection  and  exaltation,  and  in 
*  the  forgiveness  of  sins  '  (v.  30,  31).  Profession  of  this 
Faith  is  followed  at  once  by  baptism  (xvi.  31-33) .  Sanctify- 
ing Faith  (xv.  2  ;  XX vi.  18)  must  be  distinguished  from  this 
first  impulse  to  become  a  believer.  Contrast  the  past 
tense  in  xiv.  23 ;  xviii.  27 ;  xix.  2  with  the  present  in 
ii.  44  ;   xxii.  19. 

It  remains  to  consider  the  teaching  of  the  Fourth  Gospel 
about  Faith.  Let  us  assume  that  this  treatise  was  written 
between  100  and  120  a.d.,  and  that,  though  it  is  based  on 
genuine  recollections  or  traditions  of  our  Lord's  teaching, 
it  was  written  with  the  special  design  of  offering  a  certain 
presentation  and  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ,  as  a 
solution  of  doubts  and  controversies  which  pressed  for 
settlement  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  century. 

We  have  seen  that  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  has  his  own  presentation  of  Faith  to  offer  to  the 
world.  Steeped  in  Alexandrian  philosophy,  which  called 
men  to  *  flee  hence  to  our  dear  country,'  he  conceives  of 
Faith  as  life  in  the  eternal  order,  in  the  heaven  which  is 
all  around  us  if  we  could  only  see  it,  and  dilates  on  the 
heroism  which  should  be  the  fruit  of  this  heavenly  vision. 
The  writer  was  a  scholar  and  thinker,  and  he  has  written 
for  the  scholars  and  thinkers  of  all  time.  St.  John  (I  will 
keep  the  traditional  name  without  raising  the  question 
of  Authorship)  writes  for  a  wider  circle.  The  Church  at 
the  end  of  the  first  century  was  already  distracted  by  the 
beginnings  of  the  movement  known  as  Gnosticism.  It  is 
true  that  the  great  Gnostics  of  the  first  half  of  the  second 
century  were  outside  the  Church,  and  only  half  Christian. 


l]  'FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  21 

But  within  the  Christian  societies  a  party  of  knowledge 
and  a  party  of  Faith  contended  against  each  other.  St. 
Paul's  enthusiastic  praises  of  growing  knowledge  (eVtyvwais) 
had  encouraged  the  professors  of  knowledge  *  falsely  so 
called '  {xfevSiovvi^os  yvioais,  1  Tim.  vi.  20)  to  graft  their 
barbarised  Platonism  on  Christianity,  even  in  the  lifetime 
of  the  Apostle  (Col.  ii.  6-9).  On  the  other  side,  the  party 
of  bare  Faith  {xpiXr)  TrtVris)  had  already  come  to  deserve 
the  taunts  of  the  educated  pagans.  Faith,  for  them,  was 
not  a  moral,  but  an  anti-intellectual  principle.  They  said, 
as  Celsus  tells  us  about  the  Christians  of  his  own  generation, 

*Do  not  inquire,  only  believe'  (/xr;  eJeVafe,  dWaTTLa-reva-ov). 

And  their  belief  was  of  a  childish,  apocalyptic  character,  full 
of  miracles  and  dreams  of  a  coming  reign  of  the  saints.  In 
fact,  the  situation  which  St.  Paul  already  discerned  was 
now  clearly  defined.  *  The  Jews  require  miracles  ;  the 
Greeks  metaphysics.'  St.  John,  even  more  fully  than  St. 
Paul,  presents  both  with  '  Christ  the  power  of  God  and  the 
wisdom  of  God  '  (1  Cor.  i.  22-24). 

St.  John  studiously  avoids  the  two  catchwords  yrwons 
and  7rto-Ti9,  and  uses  only  the  verbs,  which  really  agree 
better  with  the  essentially  dynamic  character  of  Faith  and 
knowledge  in  his  theology.  He  tells  us  frankly  that  his 
object  in  writing  is  that  his  readers  may  '  believe '  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and  that  believing  they 
may  have  life  through  His  name.  Faith  in  the  Person  of 
Christ  is  everywhere  central  in  this  Gospel ;  and  he  teaches 
us,  by  various  indications,  what  Faith  is.  He  uses  Tna-TeveLv 
with  five  constructions.  It  is  used  absolutely  ;  with  the 
dative ;  with  ds ;  with  €is  to  ovofia ;  and  with  6tl. 
Oiigen  distinguishes  *  believing  on  the  name  of  Christ '  as  a 
lower  grade  of  Faith  than  believing  on  Christ  Himself. 
This  sounds  over-subtle,  but  is  probably  correct.  To 
believe  on  the  name  of  Christ  has  special  reference  to  the 
public  confession  of  Faith  at  baptism.  *  They  that  believe 
on  His  name  '  (i.  12  ;   ii.  23)  practically  means  *  baptized 


22  FAITH  [CH. 

Giristians.'  ^  The  office  attributed  to  the  Holy  Ghost  in 
our  catechism — that  of  '  sanctifying  all  the  elect  people  of 
God ' — is  quite  Johannine.  In  ch.  i.  7  we  have,  '  John 
came  to  bear  witness  to  the  Light,  that  all  men  through 
him  might  believe.'  This  shows  that  Faith  is  the  trust 
of  those  who  see  things  as  they  are,  and  not  blind  credulity. 
Nathaniel  '  believes  '  that  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God  and 
King  of  Israel,  through  a  sign  :  Christ  promises  him  a  more 
spiritual  basis  for  a  higher  kind  of  belief.  In  iii.  16-21,  the 
evangelist's  comment  on  the  discourse  with  Nicodemus, 
we  have  Faith  opposed  to  rebellion  or  disloyalty  (for  this 
is  the  Biblical  sense  of  dTrtt^eii),  and  thus  we  get  a  nearer 
determination  of  Faith  as  including  obedience  and  loyalty. 
In  the  discourse  about  the  Bread  of  Life,  in  ch.  vi.,  the 
persistent  demands  of  the  Jews  for  a  sign  are  rebuked  by  our 
Lord  :  '  Ye  have  seen  Me,  and  yet  believe  not ' ;  and  their 
question,  '  What  must  we  do,  that  we  may  work  the  works 
of  God  ?  '  is  met  by  the  remarkable  declaration,  '  This  is 
the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe  on  Him  whom  He  sent.' 
Personal  devotion  includes  the  '  works  of  God,'  and  these 
works  will  never  be  done  without  it.  In  xii.  44  Christ 
says,  '  He  that  believeth  on  Me,  believeth  not  on  Me,  but 
on  Him  that  sent  Me.'  Faith  in  Christ  and  Faith  in  God 
are  identical ;  but  the  former  is  the  way  to  the  latter. 
Those  who  seek  ^glory '  one  from  another,  instead  of  the 
glory  that  cometh  from  the  only  God  (v.  44),  cannot  be- 
lieve. In  the  last  discourses  there  is  less  about  believing, 
and  more  about  the  peace  and  joy  to  which  Faith  conducts. 
In  ch.  xvii.  Christ  does  not  pray  that  His  disciples  may 
*  believe,'  but  for  higher  things.  Lastly,  in  the  all-import- 
ant concluding  words  of  ch.  xx.,  Faith  without  sight 
receives  the  last  beatitude. 

If  we  compare  all  the  places  where  Trto-rcvetv  is  used  in 
St.  John,  we  shall  conclude,  I  think,  that  the  two  meanings 
of  intellectual   conviction   and   moral   self-surrender  are 
1  Abbott,  Johannine  Vocdbvicury, 


I.]  *  FAITH '  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TEEM  23 

about  equally  emphasised.  Faith  is  allegiance  to  Jesus  / 
Christ,  and  as  such  a  condition  of  eternal  life  (i.  6  ;  vi.  40), 
which  latter  is  also  a  progressive  stage,  depending  on  know- 
ledge (xvii.  3)  as  well  as  Faith.  '  Believing  is  not  a  con- 
summation or  a  goal,  but  a  number  of  different  stages,  by 
which  different  individuals  pass  towards  the  one  Centre,  in 
whom  they  are  to  have  life.'  ^  Thus  the  rival  claims  of 
Faith  and  Knowledge  are  reconciled,  by  lifting  both  into 
a  higher  sphere,  and  fixing  both  on  the  Person  of  Christ. 

In  this  short  review  of  the  development  of  the  concept 
*  Faith  '  in  the  Bible,  I  have  tried  to  show  how  here,  as  in 
other  cases,  there  was  a  fusion  of  Jewish  and  Hellenic 
modes  of  thought.     At  the  end  of  the  first  century  we  find  \ 
Faith  established  as  a  characteristic  Christian  virtue  or  j 
temper,  with  a  full  and  rich  meaning.     The  Christians  \ 
called  themselves  '  Believers,'  and  spoke  of  '  the  Faith ' 
without  further  specification  of  what  they  believed  or 
trusted    in.     But    they    were    conscious    that   the    word 
included  moral  devotion  and  self-surrender  to  Christ,  a 
firm  conviction  that  by  uniting  themselves  to  Him  they 
would  find  remission  of  sins  and  eternal  salvation,  and    j 
intellectual  conviction  that  certain  divinely  revealed  facts  / 
are  true. 

1  Abbott,  Johannine  Vocahularjf^ 


24  FAITH 


CHAPTER   II 

FilTH  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM — continued 

(b)  In  the  Church 

In  order  to  form  an  adequate  judgment  on  the  meaning 
of  '  Faith '  in  Christian  theology,  we  must  pursue  our 
investigation  into  the  writings  of  Christian  theologians. 

The  '  Apostolic  Fathers  '  do  not  yield  us  much  in  the 
way  of  illustration,  until  we  come  to  Ignatius.  This  writer 
employs  {Ep.  ix.)  a  curious  metaphor  :  *  Ye  were  drawn 
up  on  high  by  the  cross  of  Christ,  using  the  Holy  Spirit  as 
a  rope,  while  your  faith  was  the  means  by  which  you 
ascended,  and  your  love  the  way  which  led  you  up  to  God.' 
Here  Faith  is  the  motive  force,  love  a  kind  of  inclined  plane. 
In  ch.  xiv.  of  the  same  epistle  he  says  :  *  Faith  and  love 
towards  Christ  Jesus  are  the  beginning  and  end  of  life. 
The  beginning  is  Faith,  and  the  end  is  Love.'  ^  We  shall 
find  this  delimitation  of  the  provinces  of  Faith  and  Love 
repeated  more  than  once  by  Clement  of  Alexandria.  Cf. 
especially  Strom,  vii.  10  :  '  Christ  is  both  the  foundation 
and  the  superstructure,  through  whom  are  both  the  begin- 
ning and  the  end.  Faith  is  the  beginning.  Love  the  end.* 
And  ib.  ii.  13 :  '  Faith  leads  the  way ;  Fear  edifies ; 
Love  perfects.'  There  are  signs  even  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment that  this  was  an  accepted  maxim  in  the  Church :  in 
2  Pet.  i.  5-7,  Faith  and  Love  begin  and  end  the  list ;  and 
in  1  Tim.  i.  5  we  have,  '  the  end  of  the  commandment  is 
Love.*     So   Hermas   (iii.   8)   has   the  following   scheme: 

*  Cf .  also  Smyrn.  6,  '  Faith  and  love  are  everything.  ^ 


II.]  < FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  25 

*  From  Faith  arises  Self-restraint ;  from  Self-restraint, 
Simplicity  ;  from  Simplicity,  Guilelessness  ;  from  Guile- 
lessness,  Chastity  ;  from  Chastity,  Intelligence  ;  and  from 
Intelligence,  Love.'  The  pedigree  is  silly  enough  ;  but 
the  positions  of  Faith  and  Love  are  evidently  fixed.^ 

The  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  Diognetus  has  (ch.  viii.)  : 

*  He  has  manifested  Himself  through  Faith,  to  which  alone 
it  is  given  to  behold  God.'     Theophilus  (i.  8)  uses  Faith  as 
equivalent  to  Trust,  and  argues  that  without  Faith  almost 
all  action  would  be  impossible.     In  the  Clementine  Recogni- 
tions (ii.  69),  Peter  is  made  to  say,  '  It  is  not  safe  to  commit"^ 
these  things  to  bare  Faith  without  Reason,  since  truth  ■ 
cannot  be  without  reason.     He  who  has  received  truthsj  j 
fortified  by  reason,  can  never  lose  them  ;   whereas  he  who 
receives  them  without  proofs,  by  simple  assent,  can  neither 
keep  them  safely,  nor  be  sure  that  they  are  true.     The  more 
anxious  any  man  is  in  demanding  a  reason,  the  more  secure 
will  he  be  in  keeping  his  Faith.'     This  language  reminds  us 
of    the    Cambridge    Platonists,    especially    of    Benjamin, 
Whichcote,  who  says,  '  When  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel 
becomes  the  reason  of  our  mind,  it  will  be  the  principle  of 
our  life.' 

More  interesting  and  important  is  the  doctrine  of  Faith 
in  Clement  of  Alexandria,  whom  I  have  already  quoted.^ 

*  Faith,'  he  says  [Strom,  ii.  2),  '  which  the  Greeks  disparage 
as  futile  and  barbarous,  is  a  voluntary  anticipation,  the 
assent  of  piety — the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen,  as  the  inspired  Apostle  says. 
Others  have  defined  Faith  to  be  an  uniting  assent  to  an 
unseen  obje3t.  If  then  it  be  choice,  the  desire  is  in  this 
case  intellectual,  since  it  desires  something.  And  since 
choice  is  the  beginning  of  action,  Faith  is  the  beginning  of 
action,  being  the  foundation  of  rational  choice,  when  a 

1  Cf.  a  similar  list  in  Hermas,  ix.  15. 

*  The  second  book  of  the  Stromateis  contains  a  fall  and  very  instructive 
discussion  of  Faith. 


26  FAITH  [ctt 

man  sets  before  himself,  through  Faith,  the  demonstration 
which  he  anticipates.  Voluntarily  to  follow  what  is  useful 
is  the  beginning  of  understanding  it.  Unswerving  choice, 
therefore,  gives  a  great  impetus  towards  knowledge.  The 
exercise  of  Faith  at  once  becomes  knowledge,  built  on  a 
sure  foundation.' 

The  followers  of  Basilides,  he  proceeds,  regard  Faith  as 
a  natural  endowment,  defining  it  as  '  finding  ideas  by  in- 
tellectual comprehension  without  demonstration.*  '  The 
Valentinians  assign  Faith  to  us  simple  folk,  but  claim  that 
knowledge  arises  in  themselves  (who  are  saved  by  nature) 
through  the  advantage  of  a  germ  of  higher  excellence, 
saying  that  it  is  as  far  above  faith  as  the  spiritual  is  above 
the  animal.'  To  this  Clement  objects,  as  making  Faith  an 
innate  faculty  and  not  a  matter  of  rational  choice.  We 
cannot  justly  be  punished  for  lacking  a  power  which  is 
given  or  withheld  by  external  necessity  ;  and  if  this  is  the 
true  account,  he  who  has  not  Faith  cannot  hope  to  acquire 
jt. 

^  First  principles  are  incapable  of  demonstration.  The 
First  Cause  of  the  Universe  can  be  apprehended  by  Faith 
alone.  For  knowledge  is  a  state  of  mind  resulting  from 
demonstration ;  but  Faith  is  a  grace  which  from  what  is 
not  demonstrable  leads  us  to  what  is  universal  and  simple. 

We  can  learn  nothing  without  a  preconceived  idea  of 
what  we  are  aiming  at ;  Faith  is  such  a  preconception. 
This  is  what  the  prophet  meant  when  he  said,  '  Unless  ye 
believe,  ye  will  not  understand,'  and  what  Heraclitus 
meant  when  he  said,  '  If  you  do  not  hope,  you  will  not  find 
^what  is  beyond  your  hopes.' 

X—  The  Basilidians  (ch.  vi.)  define  Faith  to  be  the  assent  of 
the  soul  to  any  of  those  things  that  are  not  present  to  the 
senses.  This  assent  is  not  supposition,  but  assent  to  some- 
thing certain.  Faith  is  the  voluntary  supposition  and 
anticipation  of  comprehension. 

Faith  must  not  be  disparaged  as  simple  and  vulgar.     '  If 


J 


il]  'FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  £7 

\ 

it  grow,  and  there  is  no  place  where  it  is  not,  then  I  affirm  1 
that  Faith,  whether  founded  in  love  or  (as  its  disparagers  J 
assert)  in  fear,  is  something  divine.  Love,  by  its  aUiance 
with  Faith,  makes  men  beUevers  ;  and  Faith,  which  is  the 
foundation  of  Love,  in  its  turn  introduces  the  doing  of 
good.  Faith  is  the  first  movement  towards  salvation ; 
after  which  fear  and  hope  and  repentance,  in  company  with 
temperance  and  patience,  lead  us  on  to  love  and  knowledge.' 
Knowledge  (ch.  xi.)  is  founded  on  Faith.  But  Faith  is 
also  founded  on  knowledge,  which  may  be  defined  as 
*  reason,  producing  Faith  in  what  is  disputed  [by  arguing] 
from  what  is  admitted.'  There  are  two  kinds  of  Faith, 
one  resting  on  science,  the  other  on  opinion.  (Therefore, 
it  would  seem.  Faith  is  the  condition  of  attaining  know- 
ledge, and  knowledge,  so  far  from  superseding  Faith,  gives 
it  back  transmuted  into  a  higher  form.)  Obedience  to  the 
commandments,  which  implies  Faith  or  trust  in  God 
(o  ccTTt  TTto-Teveiv  Tw  dew),^  is  a  mode  of  learning  :  and  '  Faith 
is  a  power  of  God,  being  the  strength  of  truth.'  (That  is 
to  say.  Faith  is  essentially  progressive  and  dynamic  ;  it 
has  its  proper  activity  in  a  certain  energy  of  thought,  will, 
and  action,  which  issues  in  an  assurance  of  the  truth, 
based  on  knowledge  and  experience.)  N 

*  Fear  is  the  beginning  of  love  (ch.  xii.).  Fear  develops  j 
into  Faith,  and  Faith  into  love.'  (This  is  a  remarkable  1 
echo  of  the  well-known  *  Primus  in  orbe  deos  fecit  timor  '  of  1 
Statins  and  Petronius.)  '  But  I  do  not  fear  my  Father  as  \ 
I  fear  a  wild  beast ;  I  fear  and  love  Him  at  once.  Blessed,  \ 
therefore,  is  he  who  has  Faith,  being  compounded  of  love^ 
and  fear.' 

In  the  fifth  book  of  the  Stromateis  he  returns  to  the 
subject  of  Faith.  What  follows  is  an  abridgment  of  his 
argument.  It  is  incorrect  to  say  that  Faith  has  reference 
to  the  Son,  and  knowledge  to  the  Spirit.    We  cannot  so 

1  So  Clement  of  Borne  makes  the  faith  of  Abraham  consist  in  obedience 
(ch.  10). 


28  FAtTH  [cB, 

separate  either  the  Persons  of  the  Trinity,  or  Faith  and 
Knowledge. 

*  Faith  is  the  ear  of  the  soul.'  It  admits  of  growth,  as  is 
shown  by  Rom.  i.  11,  17  ;  Luke,  xvii.  5.  We  must  not, 
with  Basilides,  regard  it  as  *  a  natural  endowment,  dis- 
pensing with  the  rational  assent  of  the  self-determining 
soul,'  for  then  we  should  not  have  needed  a  Saviour.  But 
we  do  need  revelation,  and  Faith  accepts  it.  Nevertheless, 
Faith  always  goes  hand  in  hand  with  inquiry. 

In  the  seventh  book  he  speaks  of  Faith  as  a  short  cut 
to  perfection,  by  which  the  unlearned  and  ignorant  may 
outdistance  him  who  is  learned  in  the  philosophy  of  the 
Greeks.  *  Faith  is  a  compendious  knowledge  of  essentials, 
while  knowledge  is  a  sure  and  firm  demonstration  of  the 
things  received  through  Faith,  carrying  us  on  to  unshaken 
conviction  and  scientific  certainty.  There  is  a  first  kind 
of  saving  change  from  heathenism  to  Faith,  a  second  from 
Faith  to  knowledge  ;  and  knowledge,  as  it  passes  on  into 
love,  begins  at  once  to  establish  a  mutual  friendship  be- 
tween the  knower  and  the  known.  Perhaps  he  who  has 
reached  this  stage  is  *  equal  to  the  angels  *  (tVayyeAo?, 
Luke  XX.  36.)  Faith  is  preceded  by  admiration  (ch.  xi.  §  60), 
which  is  thus  the  beginning  of  Faith,  as  Plato  says  it  is  the 
beginning  of  philosophy.  Compare  the  words  attributed 
to  Christ :  *  He  who  wonders  shall  reign,  and  he  who  reigns 
shall  rest,'  and  Wordsworth's,  *  We  live  by  admiration, 
hope,  and  love.' 

I  have  dwelt  on  Clement's  doctrine  of  Faith  at  what  may 
seem  disproportionate  length,  because  I  believe  that  he  is 
the  one  of  the  Christian  Fathers  who  deals  with  the  relations 
of  Faith  and  knowledge  m  the  most  enlightened  and  illumin- 
ating way.  We  at  any  rate  feel  that  we  can  understand 
and  sympathise  with  his  point  of  view,  because  the  problems 
with  which  he  had  to  deal  were  in  many  ways  very  similar 
to  our  problems.  Clement  had  to  steer  between  the  un- 
qualified intellectuaUsm  of  the  Greek  Gnostics,  and  the 


I 


II.]  'FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  29 

obscurantism  of  the  simpUciores,  with  their  watchword  of 
'  Faith  only '  {xpiXrj  ttiottis).  When  Clement  speaks  of  Faith, 
he  has  often  in  view  the  Faith  of  these  simple  Christians. 
And  his  main  object  is  to  show  what  are  the  true  relations 
of  this  simple  belief  to  the  Gnosis  of  which  cultivated 
Christians  were  so  proud.  Faith,  he  maintains  all  through, 
is  the  foundation,  Gnosis  the  superstructure.  There  is  no 
generic  difference  between  them.  The  true  Gnostic  is 
merely  the  man  of  Faith  come  to  maturity,  a  Christian 
who  has  drawn  out  of  his  faith  all  that  it  virtually  con- 
tained from  the  first.  Faith  is  an  immanent,  implicit  good 
(e'l/Sta^eros),  which  Gnosis  renders  explicit.  It  is  the 
condition  of  all  knowledge  of  God  ;  there  is  no  royal  road 
for  the  philosopher,  through  the  intellect  alone,  to  divine 
knowledge.  All  alike  must  begin  with  Faith,  which  de- 
mands a  ^eoo-e/Seias  (rvyKaTd6€(ri<i,  a  personal  assent  to 
an  attitude  of  adoration,  an  act  of  piety.  But  since  it  is 
the  nature  of  Faith  to  develop  into  knowledge,  the  door 
cannot  be  shut  upon  inquiry.  The  way  is  open  for  a 
Christian  philosophy.  So  Clement  refutes  the  obscurantism 
of  Tertullian,  who  wishes  to  break  altogether  with  Greek 
philosophy  and  science. 

But  Faith  is  not  only  the  condition  of  knowledge.  It  is 
the  condition  of  the  moral  life  of  the  Christian,  even  at  the 
highest  stage.  '  All  the  virtues  are  daughters  of  Faith.' 
Faith  and  knowledge,  as  concurrent  activities  of  the  soul, 
are  the  principles  of  its  growth,  and  also  of  its  consistency 
and  stability.  '  Faith  and  knowledge  prepare  the  soul 
which  chooses  to  live  by  them,  making  it  self-consistent  and 
stable.' 

Clement  goes  still  further,  making  Faith  the  foundation 
of  knowledge  in  general.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  his 
theory  of  knowledge,  which  has  no  great  philosophical 
value,  being  a  mixture  of  Platonism  and  Stoicism  ;  but  by 
putting  Faith  in  the  place  of  the  Stoic  n-poXynJ/is,  and  know- 
ledge in  the  place  of  their  KardXi^yfis,  he  has  hit  upon  a 


30  FAITH  [CH. 

profounder  truth  than  he  knew.  He  half  sees  that  at  the 
origin  of  thought  itself,  as  of  will,  there  is  an  unconscious 
act  of  Faith.i 

Clement  was  not  a  great  philosopher,  and  does  not 
altogether  escape  the  inconsistencies  which  beset  the 
eclectic  thinker  ;  but  he  makes  out  a  good  case  for  his 
main  thesis,  which  he  thus  sums  up :  ttio-t^  toCvw  rj 
yvujcTLs,  yvaycTTr)  Se  -q  rriaTL's,  In  fact  I  know  no  other 
author,  ancient  or  modem,  who  has  written  so  well  upon 
our  subject. 

Of  the  obscurantism  of  Tertullian  I  have  already  spoken. 
For  him  Faith  is  a  sacred  deposit,  to  be  accepted  and 
handed  on  intact.  Faith  is  practically  identified  with  the 
regula  fidei.  I  need  not  give  you  any  quotations  to  illustrate 
this  familiar  attitude,  except  the  characteristic  '  adversus 
regulam  nil  scire  omnia  scire  est.^  The  famous  '  credo 
quia  dbsurdum '  (not  an  exact  quotation)  does  Tertullian 
and  his  disciples  injustice.  They  do  not  believe  a  thing 
because  it  is  absurd  ;  but  its  absurdity  is  no  reason,  to 
them,  for  not  believing  it.  Authority  for  them  is  a  primary 
principle  of  Faith.  It  is  accountable  to  no  other  tribunal ; 
it  reigns  supreme  and  alone.  Such  was  the  immediate 
result  of  translating  Trto-ns  into  Latin.  '  The  language  of 
the  Roman  people,'  says  Heine, '  can  never  beUe  its  origin. 
It  is  a  language  of  command  for  generals  ;  a  language 
of  decree  for  administrators  ;  an  attorney  language  for 
usurers  ;  a  lapidary  speech  for  the  stone-hard  Roman 
people.  Though  Christianity  with  a  true  Christian 
patience  tormented  itself  for  more  than  a  thousand  years 
with  the  attempt  to  spiritualise  this  tongue,  its  ejfforts 
remained  fruitless  ;  and  when  Tauler  sought  to  fathom  the 
awful  abysses  of  thought,  and  his  heart  overflowed  with 
reUgious  emotion,  he  was  compelled  to  speak  German.'  ^ 

My  object  in  this  lecture  is  to  illustrate  the  meanings  of 

1  De  Faye,  CUinent  dPAlexandrie,j3.  198. 

•  Quoted  by  Allen,  Continuity  qf  Christian  Thought,  p.  249. 


II.]  *FAITH'  AS  A  KELIGIOUS  TERM  '»1 

Faith,  as  a  theological  concept,  in  the  Church.  I  need  not, 
I  think,  quote  at  length  from  other  Fathers,  with  whom 
the  meaning  and  scope  of  Faith  is  a  less  prominent  part 
of  their  teaching  than  it  was  with  Clement.  TertuUian's 
conception  grew  in  favour.  We  hear  more  and  more  of 
the  regula  fidei,  though  it  is  admitted  that  grace,  which 
is  only  the  divine  side  of  Faith,  is  fettered  by  no  rules. 

St.  Augustine's  writings  contain  some  noteworthy  sayings 
about  Faith.  '  Faith  is  not  only  knowledge  in  the  intellect 
but  also  assurance  {fiducia)  in  the  will.'  He  recognises 
three  elements  in  Faith — notitia,  assensus,  fiducia  {Confes- 
sions, iii.  183).  '  There  are  three  classes  of  things  credible  : 
those  which  are  always  believed  and  never  understood,  sicut 
est  omnis  historia,  temporalia  et  humana  gesta  percurrens : 
those  which  are  understood  as  they  are  believed,  sicut  sunt 
omnes  rationes  humance  :  and  those  which  are  first  believed 
and  afterwards  understood,  such  as  those  about  divine 
matters,  which  cannot  be  understood  except  by  the  pure 
in  heart ;  and  this  condition  comes  from  keeping  the  moral 
law '  {De  Div,  Qucest.,  Ixxxiii.  qu.  48).  '  Fides  qucerity 
intellectus  invenit '  {De  Trin.,  xv.  2). 

Anselm's  famous  '  credo  ut  intelligam '  was  changed  by 
Abelard  into  intelligo  ut  credam  ;  and  henceforth  Faith  and 
knowledge  appear,  in  the  Schoolmen,  as  principles  which 
may  not  always  work  together  harmoniously.^ 

A  very  brief  summary  of  the  teaching  of  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas  about  Faith  must  suffice,  as  a  specimen  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  Schoolmen.  Divine  truth,  he  says,  is 
divided,  not  in  itself,  but  in  its  relation  to  our  knowledge. 
Part  of  it  can  be  known  by  human  reason,  part  only  by 
revelation.2    Revelation    is    necessary    for    some    truths 

i  Bernard's  most  characteristic  utterance  about  Faith  is  rhetorical  and 
auti -rationalist :  *  Fides  attingit  inaccessa,  deprehendit  ignota,  compre- 
hendit  imraensa,  apprehendit  novissinia,  ipsam  denique  aeternitatem  suo 
illo  sinu  vastissirao  quodam  modo  circumcludit.  Beatam  trinitatem  quam 
non  intelligo  credo,  et  fide  teneo  quam  non  capio  mente.' — Serm.  in  Cant.f 
76.  >  Contra  Gentiles,  i.  3. 


32  FAITH  [cH. 

which  entirely  transcend  human  knowledge,  but  it  is  not 
confined  to  what  is  essentially  beyond  our  faculties. 
There  are  truths,  such  as  the  existence  of  God,  which  are 
capable  of  demonstration,  but  only  by  a  course  of  reason 
which  few  have  brains  enough  to  follow  ;  and  therefore 
God  has  revealed  them.  The  distinction  between  reason 
and  revelation  corresponds  to  the  distinction  between 
knowledge  and  Faith.  Faith  comes  between  opinion  and 
knowledge  ;  it  involves  an  act  of  the  will.  '  The  intellect,' 
he  says,  '  assents  to  a  thing  in  two  ways,  in  one  way  because 
it  is  moved  to  assent  by  the  object  itself,  which  is  known 
by  itself,  or  by  something  else  ;  in  the  other  way  the 
intellect  assents  to  a  thing,  not  because  it  is  sufficiently 
moved  to  assent  by  the  object  itself,  but  by  a  certain 
choice,  by  which  it  voluntarily  inclines  to  one  side  rather 
than  the  other.  If  this  choice  is  made  from  doubt  and 
fear  of  the  alternative,  it  is  opinion  ;  if  with  certainty  and 
without  fear,  it  is  Faith.'  ^  He  also  says  that  the  objective 
ground  of  Faith  is  authority,  of  knowledge,  reason.  And 
since  the  authority  is  divine  truth,  it  may  be  said  that 
Faith  has  a  greater  certainty  than  knowledge,  which 
relies  on  human  reason.^  Since,  however,  the  objects  of 
Faith  are  less  fully  apprehended,  being  above  the  intellect 
of  man,  knowledge  from  another  point  of  view  is  more 
certain  than  Faith.  The  certainty  of  Faith,  on  one  side, 
comes  from  the  will,  which  is  guided  by  '  Veritas  prima  sive  \ 
Deus.*  Faith,  however,  is  not  an  act  of  arbitrary  choice.f; 
it  presupposes  some  knowledge  :  '  cognitio  fidei  proBSupponit 
cognitionem  naturalem  siciU  et  natura  gratiam.^  Faith 
cannot  demonstrate  what  it  believes ;  else  it  would  be 
knowledge  and  not  Faith ;  but  it  does  investigate  the 
grounds  by  which  a  man  is  led  to  believe — e.g.  that  the 
words  were  spoken  by  God.* 

1  Be  Veritate,  Quaest.  xiv.,  art.  1. 

•  SumTna  TheoL,  2.  2,  qu.  4,  art.  9, 

*  De  Veritate,  Quaest.  xiv.,  art.  9. 
<  SumTna  Theol.,  2.  2,  qu.  1,  art.  4. 


II.]  *  FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  83 

It  is  plain  from  these  passages  that  Faith,  for  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  necessarily  involves  both  an  intellectual  and  a 
moral  act ;  and  also,  I  think,  that  he  has  shrunk  from 
subjecting  the  basis  of  Church  authority  to  a  searching 
scrutiny.  The  practical  question  which  we  all  have  to 
face  is  whether  we  ought  to  allow  '  the  will  to  believe  '  to 
influence  us  in  our  choice  of  authorities — e.g.  whether  we 
may  choose  to  follow  the  authority  of  the  Church  m  pre- 
ference to  that  of  a  naturalist  or  metaphysician.  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas  says  that  the  will  is  guided  by  '  the 
primary  Truth,  which  is  God.'  If  so,  Faith  would  seem 
to  be  only  the  human  side  of  divine  grace,  immanent 
in  the  human  mind  ;  and  it  must  be  ultimately  independent 
of  and  superior  to  all  external  authority,  even  that  of  the 
Church,  The  authority  of  the  Church  can  only  be  ac- 
cepted as  final  on  the  further  assumption  that  the  donum 
veritatis  belongs  to  one  institution  and  one  only. 

With  the  Reformation,  controversy  about  the  meaning 
of  Faith  became,  for  the  second  time  in  the  historj?-  of  the 
Church,  acute.  Every  one  knows  that  *  Justification  by 
Faith '  was  the  corner-stone  of  Luther's  doctrinal  system. 
His  own  account  of  the  process  by  which  he  found  the  light 
is  as  follows.  When  he  first  read  the  words  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  iustitia  Dei  in  eo  revelatur^  he  said  to  him- 
self, '  Is  it  not  enough  that  WTetched  sinners,  already 
damned  for  original  sin,  should  be  overwhelmed  by  so 
many  calamities  by  the  decrees  of  the  Ten  Command- 
ments, but  God  must  threaten  us,  even  in  His  Gospel, 
with  His  justice  and  anger  ?  '  But  at  last,  he  says,  *  I 
perceived  that  the  justice  of  God  is  that  whereby,  with 
God's  blessing,  man  fives,  namely,  Faith.  Thereupon  I 
felt  as  if  bom  again,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  gates  of 
heaven  stood  wide  open.'  It  is  not  easy  to  see  how  the 
justice,  or  righteousness,  of  God  can  be  identified  with 
Faith,  if  Faith  has  a  human  side  at  all ;  but  Luther  found 
ineffable  peace  in  the  thought  that  those  who,  through 


34  FAITH  [cH, 

Faith  in  Christ  as  the  revelation  of  God's  righteousness, 
have  accepted  Him,  are  clothed  with  a  righteousness  not 
their  own — with  the  righteousness  of  Christ  imputed  to 
them.  The  form  of  this  doctrine  is  derived  chiefly  from 
the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  studied  in  Latin  with  St. 
Augustine's  commentary.  In  the  sixteenth  century,  how- 
ever, it  was  a  crucial  question,  What  is  the  proper  instru- 
ment of  justification  ?  This  '  justification  '  (to  '  justify  ' 
means  to  pronounce  righteous,^  by  judicial  decree,  but  with 
no  suggestion  of  a  legal  fiction)  was  regarded  as  the  applica- 
tion of  the  merits  of  Christ  to  the  individual,  which  applica- 
tion, it  was  agreed  on  all  hands,  must  be  through  an  instru- 
ment divinely  appointed.  An  important  passage,  often 
appealed  to,  in  Clement  of  Rome,^  says  :  '  We  also  are 
not  justified  by  ourselves,  neither  by  our  own  wisdom  or 
knowledge  or  piety  or  any  works  which  we  did  in  holiness 
of  heart,  but  by  that  Faith  in  which  God  Almighty  has 
justified  all  men  from  the  beginning.' 

Both  sides  were  also  agreed  that  Faith  justifies.  But 
the  Catholics  distinguished  between  fides  informis,  inert 
opinion,  and  fides  formata,  which  is  perfected  by  the  love 
and  good  works  which  spring  from  it.  Among  the  proposi- 
tions anathematised  by  the  Council  of  Trent  were  :  that  a 
man  may  be  justified  without  grace  :  that  man  is  justified 
only  by  the  imputation  of  the  justice  of  Christ,  or  only  by 
the  remission  of  sins,  without  inherent  grace,  or  charity  : 
that  justifying  Faith  is  nothing  but  confidence  in  the 
mercy  of  God,  who  forgives  sins  for  the  sake  of  Christ : 
that  man  is  absolved  and  justified  because  he  firmly 
believes  that  he  is  absolved  and  Justified. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Reformers  held  that  Faith  is  the 
one  principle  which  God's  grace  uses  for  restoring  us  to 
His  favour.     We  need  a  radical  change,  which  change  is 

1  As  in  Clirysostom's  comment :  '  When  a  just  judge's  sentence  pronounces 
us  just  {SiKalovs  6,To<palvei)  what  signifies  the  accuser?' — Horn,  in  Ep.  ad 
Rom.  16.  «  Clem.  i.  32. 


II.]  *  FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  36 

called  Justification  from  God's  side,  and  regeneration  on 
our  side.  It  is  initiated  by  the  secret  influence  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  co-operating,  as  a  rule,  with  the  Word  of  God, 
or  some  other  means  of  grace  ;  and  it  appropriates  salva- 
tion, leading  to  a  feeling  of  absolute  peace  and  confidence 
that  our  sins  are  forgiven.  '  Justification,'  according  to 
this  theory,  '  is  a  change  in  God's  dealings  with  us  ;  and 
Faith  means  trust.'  ^ 

This  is  clearly  an  attempt  to  narrow  the  meaning  of 
Faith,  by  excluding  from  it  some  of  the  elements  which  it 
had  been  made  to  contain  ;  and  accordingly  the  Reformers 
defined  Faith  largely  by  negations.  It  is  not  intellectual 
behef,  e.g.  in  the  fact  of  the  Incarnation  ;  it  is  not  know- 
ledge and  acceptance  of  any  dogmas  ;  it  is,  in  itself,  quite 
separate  from  charity  or  any  good  works  ;  if  it  must  be 
defined,  it  is  a  trust  in  Christ's  merits  for  salvation.  From 
this  trust,  all  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  said  to  flow. 
Melanchthon,  the  Confession  of  Augsburg,  and  the  more 
moderate  Lutherans  generally,  defined  Faith  as  '  fiduciary 
apprehension '  of  Gospel  mercy.  Faith  in  itself  has  no 
virtue,  the  meritorious  cause  of  Justification  being  the 
death  and  satisfaction  of  Christ,  which  Faith  appropriates. 
Faith  is  to  be  defined  rather  by  what  it  does  than  by  what 
it  is  :  this  is  a  favourite  answer  to  the  objection  that  Faith 
is  certainly  not  only  fiduciary  apprehension,  which  may  be 
destitute  of  any  moral  element.  A  real  apprehension  of 
Christ,  they  say,  must  necessarily  be  beyond  explanation. 
But  if  so,  it  is  not  adequately  explained  as  being  '  fiduciary 
apprehension.'  The  word  '  apprehension,'  moreover,  needs 
definition.  It  is  an  ambiguous  term,  which  tends  to  con- 
fuse the  reception  of  news  with  the  appropriation  of  a 
gift. 

As  for  the  exclusion  of  love  and  good  works  from  Justify- 
ing Faith,  the  question  seems  to  be  fittle  more  than  a 
scholastic  dispute  of  no  great  practical  interest.     Faith 

1  Newman,  Lectures  on  Justification,  p.  6. 


36  FAITH  [CH. 

from  our  point  of  view,  is  in  its  earliest  stage  a  vague  and 
undifferentiated  apprehension  of  God,  the  first  stirring  of 
divine  grace,  which  is  an  active  principle  working  in  and 
through  the  natural  faculties.  It  is  intended  to  develop 
and  find  explicit  expression  in  all  parts  of  our  nature.  If 
we  must  answer  the  question  whether  Faith  or  love  is  the 
formal  cause  of  Justification,  we  can  only  say  that  Faith 
is  the  beginning,  love  the  crown,  of  the  spiritual  fife,  and 
that  those  who  put  love  first,  in  time  as  well  as  in  dignity, 
are  in  error.  The  Catholic  doctrine  is  that  Faith,  as  a 
disposing  condition,  is  prior  to  justification,  and  that 
caritas  is  posterior  to  it.  The  only  antecedent  of  Faith 
is  a  bona  volurUas,  a  pia  affectio.  This  accords  with  the 
view  taken  in  these  lectures. 

Melanchthon  recedes  considerably  from  the  rigour  of 
Luther's  doctrine  of  justification  by  Faith  only.  He 
explains  that  it  only  means  that  we  must  renounce  the 
merit  of  the  good  works  which  are  undoubtedly  associated 
with  Faith ;  and  he  calls  justification  by  Faith  '  Paulina 
figura.*  Nothing  can  show  Melanchthon's  position  more 
clearly  than  the  following  passage  from  his  Directions  for 
Visitors,  sanctioned  by  Luther.  *  Although,  there  are  some 
who  think  that  nothing  should  be  taught  before  Faith, 
and  that  repentance  should  be  left  to  follow  from  and  after 
Faith,  so  that  the  adversaries  may  not  say  that  we  retract 
our  former  doctrine,  yet  the  matter  must  be  thus  viewed  : 
Because  repentance  and  law  belong  alike  to  the  common 
Faith  (for  one  must  believe  of  course  that  there  is  a  God 
who  threatens  and  commands)  let  it  be  for  the  man  of 
degraded  character  that  such  portions  of  Faith  [Luther 
had  taught  that  Faith  has  no  portions]  are  allowed  to 
remain  under  the  names  of  precept,  law,  fear,  etc.,  in  order 
that  they  may  understand  more  discriminately  the  Faith 
in  Christ  which  the  Apostles  call  justifying  Faith,  i.e.  which 
makes  just  and  cancels  sin,  an  effect  not  produced  by 
Faith  in  the  precept  and  by  repentance,  and  that  the  man 


II.]  *  FAITH' AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  87 

of  low  character  may  not  be  misled  by  the  word  Faith  and 
ask  useless  questions.'  ^ 

The  English  Reformers  attempted  no  definition  of  Faith, 
and  no  definition  is  to  be  found  in  our  Articles.  But  in  the 
Homilies  we  read  :  '  A  quick  and  living  Faith  is  not  only 
the  common  belief  of  the  Articles  of  our  faith,  but  it  is  also 
a  true  trust  and  confidence  of  the  mercy  of  God  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  a  steadfast  hope  of  good  things 
to  be  received  at  God's  hand.'  The  Homily  goes  on  to  say  : 
*  Dead  Faith  is  not  the  sure  and  substantial  Faith  that 
saveth  sinners.  Another  Faith  there  is  in  Scripture,  which 
is  not  idle,  unfruitful,  dead,  but  worketh  by  charity,  as 
St.  Paul  declareth.'  ^  Elsewhere  :  '  There  is  one  work  in 
the  which  be  all  good  works  ;  that  is,  Faith  that  worketh 
by  charity.  If  thou  have  it,  thou  hast  the  ground  of  all 
good  works  :  for  the  virtues  of  strength,  wisdom,  temper- 
ance, and  justice,  be  all  referred  to  this  same  Faith.'  ^  This 
is  a  popular  statement  of  a  sound  doctrine  of  Faith. 

The  difference  between  the  CathoUc  and  the  Protestant 
view  of  Faith  may  be  made  clearer  if  I  quote  a  few  sen- 
tences in  which  Newman  sums  up  his  own  view  of  Faith,  in 
opposition  to  that  of  the  Reformers.  *  Justifying  Faith  is 
Faith  developed  into  height  and  depth  and  breadth,  as  if 
in  a  bodily  form  ;  not  as  a  picture  but  as  an  image ;  with  a 
right  side  and  a  left,  a  without  and  a  within  ;  not  a  mere 
impression  or  sudden  gleam  of  light  upon  the  soul,  not 
knowledge,  or  emotion,  or  conviction,  which  ends  with 
itself,  but  the  beginning  of  that  which  is  eternal,  the 
operation  of  the  indwelling  Power  which  acts  from  within 
us  outwards  and  round  about  us,  works  in  us  mightily,  so 
intimately  with  our  will  as  to  be  in  a  true  sense  one  With 
it ;  pours  itself  out  into  our  whole  mind,  runs  over  into 
our  thoughts,  desires,  feelings,  purposes,  attempts,  and 

1  Harnack,  History  of  Dogma^  vii.  p.  255. 
*  Sermon  of  Faith,  Part  I. 
»  Of  Good  Works,  Part  L 


38  FAITH  [cH. 

works,  combines  them  all  together  into  one,  makes  the 
whole  man  its  one  instrument,  and  justifies  him  into  one 
holy  gracious  ministry,  one  embodied  lifelong  act  of  Faith, 
one  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is  his 
reasonable  service.  Such  is  Faith  .  .  .  existing  indeed 
in  feelings,  but  passing  on  into  acts,  into  victories  of  what- 
ever kind  over  self.  .  .  .  These  acts  we  sometimes  call 
labours,  sometimes  endurances,  sometimes  confessions, 
sometimes  devotions,  sometimes  services  ;  but  they  are 
all  instances  of  self-command,  arising  from  Faith  seeing  the 
invisible  world,  and  Love  choosing  it.'  ^ 

Now  hear  Luther.  Perhaps  you  will  think  that  the 
difference  is  after  all  mainly  one  of  emphasis.  '  Faith  is  a 
divine  work  in  us,  through  which  we  are  changed  and 
regenerated  by  God.  Oh,  it  is  a  Uving,  busy,  active,  power- 
ful thing,  this  Faith,  so  that  it  is  impossible  for  it  not  to 
do  us  good  continually.  Neither  does  it  ask  whether  good 
works  are  to  be  done,  but  before  one  asks  it  has  done 
them,  and  is  doing  them  always.  But  any  one  who  does 
not  such  works  is  an  unbelieving  man,  who  gropes  and 
looks  about  him  for  Faith  and  good  works,  and  knows 
neither  what  Faith  is  nor  what  good  works  are.  Faith  is 
a  living,  deliberate  confidence  in  the  grace  of  God,  so  certain 
that  for  it  it  could  die  a  thousand  deaths.  And  such 
confidence  and  knowledge  of  divine  grace  makes  us  joyous, 
brave,  and  cheerful  towards  God  and  all  creation.'  ^ 
/  In  the  nineteenth  century,  and  at  the  present  time, 
there  has  been  and  is  much  controversy  about  the  meaning 
of  Faith.  In  the  popular  teaching  of  the  Roman  Church 
there  is  a  disastrous  tendency  to  regard  it  as  an  act  of 
violence  exercised  by  the  will  upon  the  intellect,  in  obedi- 
ence to  external  authority.  The  quotations  from  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas,  though  they  contain  nothing  to  which 
we  could  object,  show  how  easily  this  view  might  be  taken. 

1  Newman,  Lectures  on  Justificati&n,  p.  302. 

2  Luther,  Preface  to  Epistle  to  the  Romuns. 


n.]  'FAITH'  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  TERM  39 

But  the  Thomist  philosophy  was  an  honest  attempt  to 
place  theology  on  a  rational  basis.  At  the  present  day, 
even  so  liberal  a  Romanist  as  Father  Tyrrell  can  define 
Faith  as  '  voluntary  certainty,'  and  as  '  an  actively  free 
behef.'  '  Under  the  force  of  evidence,'  he  says,  '  our  mind 
is  passive  and  receptive  like  a  mirror ;  but  in  the  case  of 
free  assent,  Uke  Faith,  we  have  to  assert  ourselves.  A 
certain  sense  of  unreality,  one  might  almost  say  of  pretence, 
is  the  normal  and  natural  accompaniment  of  these  freely 
chosen  beliefs.'  *  The  difference  between  this  and  mere 
fictions  or  working  hypotheses  is  that  in  the  case  of  Faith 
we  hold  to  the  belief  in  obedience  to  the  command  of  God 
as  made  known  to  us  by  the  voice  of  conscience.  But  all 
this  will  not  prevent  that  seeming  black  to  us,  which  God 
tells  us,  and  which  we  sincerely  believe,  to  be  white. 
Therefore  a  certain  sense  of  unreality  is  part  of  the  trial 
of  Faith.'  '  The  great  mass  of  our  beliefs  are  reversible, 
and  are  dependent  for  their  stability  on  the  action  or 
permission  of  the  will.'  I  shall  deal  with  this  strange  theory 
of  Faith  in  a  later  lecture.  Here  I  merely  wish  you  to 
note  its  existence.  It  has  had  two  logical  and  inevitable 
developments.  With  the  help  of  the  Kantian  philosophy, 
or  later  systems  based  on  Kant,  the  intellectual  aspect  of 
things  has  been  disparaged,  and  the  *  will- world '  exalted 
to  supremacy.  All  mere  '  facts '  being  thus  discredited 
in  advance.  Faith  can  create  its  own  world  with  consider- 
able independence.  On  the  other  side  we  see  the  larger 
and  stronger  party  in  the  Roman  Church  scorning  and 
prohibiting  all  attempts  to  accommodate  dogmas  to  modem 
discoveries,  and  falling  back  upon  implicit,  unquestioning 
obedience  to  whatever  the  Church  has  chosen  to  declare. 

We  have  now  sketched  the  career  of  this  remarkable 
word  during  the  two  thousand  years  of  its  life.  IltcrTis — 
Fides — Glaube — Faith  :  they  are  not  exact  equivalents ; 
each  has  had  a  history  of  its  own.  The  conception  has 
been  narrowed  in  various  ways — now  into  bare  assent, 


40  FAITH  TcH. 

now  into  bare  trust  and  confidence  in  a  divine  Person  ; 
now  into  a  subjective  assurance  which  claims  to  be  its 
own  evidence  ;  now  into  vague  feeUng  ;  now  into  a  cheer- 
ful optimistic  outlook  upon  the  world  ;  now  into  implicit 
obedience  and  submission  to  authority.  It  will  be  my 
object  in  these  Lectures  to  do  justice  to  the  partial  truth 
contained  in  these  various  one-sided  views,  while  exposing 
their  limitations. 


III.]  THE  PEIMARY  GROUND  OF  FAITH  41 


CHAPTEK    III 

THE  PRIMARY  GROUND  OF  FAITH 

We  have  sketched  the  history  of  the  word  Faith  and  its 
cognates  in  the  Bible  and  in  the  Church,  and  have  shown  how 
from  the  first  it  has  been,  for  Christians,  the  accepted  term 
for  the  rehgious  temper  traced  back  to  its  source.  Faith, 
Hope,  and  Love,  with  Faith  at  the  beginning,  Hope  in  the 
middle,  and  Love  at  the  end,  as  the  crown  and  fulfilment 
of  the  other  two — this  is  Christianity  in  a  nutshell.  And 
we  have  seen  how  the  two  meanings  of  intellectual  con- 
viction and  moral  trust,  which  both  legitimately  belong 
to  the  words  ttlo-tls,  fides,  Faith,  and  to  the  Christian  virtue 
which  they  describe,  were  brought  together  in  the  New 
Testament,  never  again  to  be  divided,  but  also  never,  as 
history  shows,  to  work  quite  smoothly  together.  In  this 
lecture  I  wish  to  approach  our  subject  from  a  very  different 
side — the  psychological — and  ask.  What  is  the  primary 
ground  of  Faith,  as  a  human  faculty  or  state  of  conscious- 
ness ? 

What  is_the  seat  of  Faith  ?  Does  it  spring  from  the 
intellectual  side  of  our  nature  ?  ]^  we  attain  to  Faith  by 
caj:efully  weighing  the  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God, 
for  a  future  life,  for  the  Resurrection  of  Christ,  or  the  Virgin 
Birth,  or  the  historical  accuracy  of  the  narratives  in  the 
Old  Testament  ?  Or  shall  we,  still  within  the  province 
of  the  intellect,  agree  with  Fichte  that  *  we  are  saved,  not 
by  history,  but  by  metaphysics,'  and  base  our  Faith  on  the 
conclusions    of    some    philosophical    system  ?     Or,    with 


42  FAITH  [en. 

orthodox  Romanism,  shall  we  maintain  that  the  main 
facts  of  religion,  the  foundations  of  theistic  belief,  have 
been  demonstrated  by  the  scholastic  philosophy,  confirming 
and  supplementing  the  divine  revelation  which  has  also 
been  given  us  ?  Or  shall  we,  with  Schleiermacher,  abandon 
rationalism,  both  orthodox  and  unorthodox,  and  make 
religion  a  matter  of  pure  feeling  ?  Or,  with  some  of  the 
mystics,  shall  we  affirm  the  existence  of  direct  intuition, 
through  a  special  organ,  which  puts  us  into  immediate 
connection  with  God  and  the  spiritual  world  ?  Or  shall 
we  follow  the  voluntarists,  and  make  Faith  an  affair  of 
choice,  an  act  of  the  will  ?  Or  are  the  pragmatists  right 
in  treating  it  as  a  working  hypothesis,  determined  by 
practical  needs,  and  to  be  accepted,  if  we  choose,  '  at  our 
own  risk  '  ?  Or,  lastly,  is  it  founded  solely  on  external 
revelation,  a  body  of  divine  knowledge  and  precept  dropped 
from  the  sky  ?  These  alleged  grounds  of  Faith  will  all 
have  to  be  considered  in  turn,  though  not  in  the  order  in 
which  I  have  just  named  them.  But  I  am  constrained  to 
regard  them  all  as,  at  best,  only  secondary  grounds  of 
Faith. .  None  of  them  singly,  nor  all  of  them  collectively, 
are  adequate  to  the  idea  of  Faith.  Faith  is  something 
deeper,  more  universal,  more  fundamental,  than  anything 
that  can  be  assigned  to  the  independent  activities  of  the 
intellect,  will,  or  feelings.  Behind  all  these  determinations 
lies  the  deep-seated  religious  instinct  or  impulse. 

This  iimate  instinct  or  impulse  arises  in  the  psycho- 
logical necessity  which  obliges  us  to  assign  values  to  our  ex- 
perience.^ It  is  our  nature  to  pass  judgments,  to  call  some 
things  good,  others  bad,  to  acquit  and  condemn,  accept 
and  reject.  We  rearrange  our  world  according  to  what  we 
consider  the  worth  of  its  ingredients  to  be.  Objects,  after 
passing  through  our  minds,  are  no  longer  all  on  the  same 

1  So  Lotze  says,  '  Faith  is  the  feeling  which  is  appreciative  of  value.'  But 
I  shall  show  that  Faith  is  not  only  feeling,  if  'feeling'  excludes  the  will  and 
intellect. 


III.]  THE  PRIMARY  GROUND  OF  FAITH  43 

level.     They  are   ranked   and  classified  ;    a   hierarchy  of 
values  is  established. 

It  is  impossible  for  the  human  mind  to  inhibit  this  native 
propensity  to  assign  values.  We  may  try  to  force  ourselves 
to  regard  nature  objectively,  as  a  concatenation  of  facts 
upon  which  we  forbear  to  pass  judgment.  But  the  most 
rigorous  and  detached  scientist,  unless  he  confines  himself 
to  pure  mathematics,  which  are  independent  of  existential 
truth,  cannot  abstain  from  some  kind  of  valuation.  (There 
are  other  values  besides  ethical  values,  as  we  shall  shortly 
explain.)  However  rigidly  we  may  confine  ourselves  to 
quantitative  categories  in  the  course  of  our  investigations, 
we  have  set  before  ourselves  a  purpose — to  establish  the 
general  laws  to  which  the  changes  of  phenomena  conform  ; 
and  we  could  never  embark  on  such  an  enterprise  unless  we 
believed  that  the  knowledge  of  general  laws  has  either  an 
intrinsic  or  a  practical  value.  In  most  cases  the  assumed 
value  is  intrinsic  ;  the  man  of  science  seeks  truth  for  its 
own  sake.  It  is  sometimes  worth  while  to  prove  to  the 
materialist  (for  the  creed  is  not  extinct,  though  the  name 
is  disavowed)  that  he  has  imported  into  his  system  a  great 
deal  that  on  his  own  principles  he  has  no  right  to  touch  ; 
that  all  sympathetic  interest  in  the  results  of  molecular 
movements  is  an  intrusion  of  the  value-judgment  into  a 
field  from  which  it  has  been  by  hypothesis  excluded  ;  that 
he  has  no  right  to  talk  about  '  progress,'  or  '  degeneration,' 
or  '  the  survival  of  the  fittest.'  For  the  truth  is,  that  to 
investigate  the  purely  quantitative  aspect  of  things  with- 
out reference  to  the  qualitative,  to  discard  all  reference  to 
meaning,  interest,  or  value,  is  to  attempt  an  abstraction 
which  is  impossible  to  the  human  mind.  These  are  aspects 
of  reality  which  we  cannot  keep  out  of  sight,  even  when 
we  wish  to  ignore  them.^ 

1  Cf.  Miss  Benson's  Venture  of  Rational  Faith: — 'There  is  nothing  in  the 
scientific  aspect  of  phenomena  which  can  make  anything  in  any  possible  way 
worth  while  ;  for  even  the  idea  of  '  *  worth  "  does  not  enter  into  the  concep- 
tions of  science,  and  thus  the  essential  nature  of  everything  we  care  Jor  is 


44  FAITH  [CH. 

The  world,  then,  has  values  as  well  as  existence.  And  I 
do  not  mean  only  values  for  ourselves,  but  intrinsic  values 
— or,  if  this  phrase  be  objected  to,  values  which  for  all  who 
can  apprehend  them  are  ends  in  themselves,  not  means  to 
something  else.  We  do  not  create  or  imagine  these  values  ; 
they  are  as  much  given  to  us  as  the  existential  aspect  of 
things.  We  cannot  prove  that  the  world  exists  ;  and  we 
cannot  prove  that  our  valuation  is  anything  more  than 
subjective  ;  but  Faith  accepts  these  values,  not  as  assigned 
by  ourselves,  but  as  objectively  real.  Somewhere,  some 
day,  or  somehow,  the  real  world  is  arranged  according  to 
their  pattern. 

Faith  has  usually  connected  this  realm  of  values  with 
the  name  of  God.  God — whether  the  God  of  theism, 
pantheism,  agnostic  monism,  or  deism — is  the  self- existent 
.  summum  gemis  in  whom  we  believe  that  our  highest  ideals 
^^re  realised.  Those  who  deny  or  doubt  the  existence  of 
God,  while  retaining  the  conception  of  God  as  a  regulative 
idea  or  ideal,  seem  to  me  to  be,  strictly  speaking,  non- 
religious.^  If  the  idea  of  God  is  only  a  device,  empirically 
discovered  to  be  serviceable  for  strengthening  our  wills 
and  straightening  our  aims — just  as  a  man  might  use  a 
pair  of  spectacles  to  correct  his  faults  of  vision,  or  a  pair 
of  dumb-bells  to  increase  his  muscular  strength, — God  is 
lowered  to  the  position  of  an  instrument ;   and  this  is  an 

entirely  outside  it.  Science  can  analyae  the  production  of  sound,  and  ignore 
the  Boul  of  music ;  it  can  show  the  cause  of  colour,  and  miss  the  joy  of 
beauty  ;  it  can  show  the  genesis  of  all  manner  of  social  institutions,  and  miss 
the  heart  of  love ;  it  may  even  find  the  conditions  of  life,  but  cannot  ask 
what  life  is ;  it  may  sweep  the  heavens  with  its  telescope,  and  fail  to  find 
God.' 

^  This  limitation  does  not  exclude  Buddhism,  though  that  religion  believes 
in  no  personal  God.  For  in  Buddhism  the  '  Nothing '  to  which  all  is  reduced 
is  (in  spite  of  its  name)  a  positive  conception.  'It  is  the  absolute  world- 
ground,  the  fact  behind  the  illusions  of  the  world ;  the  absolute  being,  the 
static  basis  of  all  phenomena ;  it  is  the  absolute  world-aim,  after  which  the 
world-process  strives  and  in  which  it  finds  its  deliverance  ;  the  bearer  and 
producer  of  the  religious  and  moral  world-order,  which  brings  out  what 
alone  is  true  and  enduring  in  illusion,  and  turns  the  illusory  world-process 
into  an  actual  salvation-process.' — Hartmann,  Rdigion  de$  Oeiates,  p.  5. 
Baddhism  is  not  atheism ;  it  only  deifies  the  '  a-privative.' 


III.]  THE  PRIMARY  GROUND  OF  FAIT»  45 

irreligious  Faith  in  God.  Faith,  we  may  perhaps  say,  is  a 
realist,  as  ascribing  reality  to  ideas,  but  an  idealist,  since 
it  is  ideas  to  which  it  ascribes  reality. 

Now  on  what  principles  do  we  construct  our  world  of 
values  ?  Why  do  we  prefer  some  things  above  others  ? 
What  qualities  give  or  involve  intrinsic  worth  ?  Our 
answers  to  these  questions  will  determine  the  whole  char- 
acter of  our  Faith,  and  our  whole  judgment  as  to  the  mean- 
ing and  content  of  Faith  generally. 

The  simplest  and  lowest  standard  of  valuation  is  that 
of  pleasure  and  pain.  This  has  very  little  to  do  with  Faith, 
because  it  is  almost  entirely  subjective  and  particular. 
Sensuous  perceptions  do  not  point  to  any  universal  beyond 
themselves.  We  are  conscious  of  no  contradiction,  no 
problem  clamouring  for  solution,  when  we  acknowledge 
that  *  tastes  differ ' — even  when  they  differ  so  much  that 
one  man's  meat  is  another  man's  poison.  We  cannot 
argue  with  any  confidence  from  pleasure  and  pain  to  the 
objective  value  or  nature  of  things.  All  we  can  say  is 
that  pleasure  is  the  frequent  (not  the  universal)  accompani- 
ment of  right  action  and  of  a  healthy  condition,  and  pain 
of  wrong-doing  and  disease.  Pleasure  and  pain  have  thus 
(in  Kantian  language,  though  in  opposition  to  Kantian 
theory)  some  degree  of  regulative  value  ;  they  have  not  a 
constitutive  value.  And  their  regulative  value,  their  use- 
fulness in  apprising  us  whether  we  are  doing  well  or  badly, 
is  not  that  of  an  infallible  criterion. 

If  we  reject  the  pleasure  and  pain  calculus,  not  as  worth- 
less, but  as  belonging  to  an  inferior,  subsidiary  class,  we 
shall  find,  I  think,  that  there  are  three  attributes  of  things 
which  have  an  absolute,  intrinsic  value.  They  are  constitu- 
tive, not  regulative  principles  of  reality  regarded  as 
spiritual. 

First,  we  value  what  is  universal^j^  fmc  AttI  W^-  arrange 
our  experience  in  order  of  value,  according  as  it  illustrates, 
more  or  less,  universal  truth.     We  value  law  above  acci- 


46  FAITH  [CH. 

dent,  or  what  we  call  accident ;  we  value  the  rule  abowi  the 
exception  ;  more  decidedly,  we  value  fact  above  fiction, 
our  waking  life  above  our  dreams.  Our  thoughts  are 
valuable,  or  worthless,  according  as  they  correspond  with, 
or  contradict,  the  actual  nature  of  things.  A  theory  is 
valuable  if  it  explains  or  accounts  for  a  great  number  of 
phenomena.  A  religion  or  philosophy  is  valuable  if  it 
gives  an  intelligible  explanation  or  a  plausible  theory  of  the 
constitution  of  the  universe  and  the  laws  of  human  nature. 
Whenever  we  succeed  in  establishing  the  correspondence  of 
idea  with  fact,  we  feel  that  we  are  enriched  ;  we  have 
gained  something  which  is  valuable  for  its  own  sake. 

I  shall  have,  in  the  course  of  these  lectures,  to  defend 
this  conception  of  truth  against  the  sceptical  subjectivism 
which  denies  that  our  thoughts  can  ever  convey  to  us 
genuine  knowledge  of  reality  external  to  ourselves.  I  will 
not  argue  the  question  in  this  place,  but  will  only  say  that 
my  position  is  a  '  moderate  realism.'  I  believe  that  we  are 
in  contact  with  external  reality,  and  that  we  may  trust  our 
faculties  when  they  tell  us  (as  they  do  with  the  utmost 
emphasis)  that  our  knowledge  is  not  merely  of  our  own 
mental  states,  but  of  facts  which  exist  independently  of 
our  mental  states.  At  the  same  time,  I  hold  that  this 
confidence  is  a  matter  of  reasonable  Faith,  and  can  never, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  be  anything  more. 
!  Secondly,  we  attach  an  absolute,  intrinsic  value  to  what 
we  call  moral  goodness.  However  we  came  by  it,  we  are 
in  possession  of  the  category  of  the  ought-to-be,  the  partly 
unrealised  supplement  of  given  experience.  The  greater 
part  of  our  experience  is  capable  of  being  arranged  on  a  scale 
of  ethical  values.  We  may,  if  we  choose,  for  the  sake  of 
greater  clearness  in  ethical  study,  abst-act  from  other 
aspects  of  reality,  and  regard  the  world  simply  as  a  place 
where  some  things  are  morally  good,  and  others  morally 
bad.  We  may  picture  to  ourselves  human  life  as  simply 
and  solely  a  school  of  character,  a  place  of  moral  discipline. 


r. 


III.]  THE  PRIMAEY  GEOUND  OF  FAITH  47 

And  if  we  are  asked,  '  Why  is  this  or  that  called  good  ? ' 
we  must  not  answer,  '  Because  it  promotes  the  interest  of 
the  whole,'  or  *  Because  it  leads  to  the  greatest  happiness,' 
or  anything  of  that  kind.  If  we  do,  the  Positivist  will 
prove  to  us  that  the  '  Good '  is,  by  our  own  admission, 
only  a  means  to  an  end,  or  only  relative,  or  only  determined 
by  public  opinion.  The  Good  cannot  be  made  an  instru- 
ment of  pleasure  and  pain,  though  utilitarianism  has  sub- 
jected it  to  this  degradation  ;  nor  can  it  be  subordinated 
to  the  True  and  the  Beautiful,  any  more  than  they  to  it. 
The  form  of  the  moral  standard,  '  You  must,'  is  essential 
as  well  as  the  content.  It  is  clearly  a  law  of  our  being  ; 
we  point  to  it  as  a  magnetic  needle  points  to  the  North. 

In  a  later  lecture  I  shall  have  to  deal  with  the  exclusive 
authority  attached  by  some  philosophers  to  the  moral 
sense.  I  do  not  agree  that  the  *  categorical  imperative ' 
belongs  to  moral  judgments  only,  in  such  a  way  as  to  make 
a  generic  difference  between  them  and  intellectual  or 
aesthetic  judgments.  The  peremptory  command,  '  You 
must  take  account  of  this,'  is  not  always  the  voice  of  con- 
science. It  is  the  mark  of  all  reality,  and  it  compels  our 
attention  to  the  true  and  the  beautiful  in  the  same  master- 
ful tone  as  to  the  ethical  demand.  The  contrary  impression 
has  arisen  from  the  fact  that  the  moral  imperative  usually 
prompts  to  some  external  act,  which  for  a  superficial  vie^v 
is  more  '  real '  than  a  change  of  mind  or  feeUng. 

The  third  order  of  values,  which,  though  with  the 
majority  of  men  it  holds  a  subordinate  place,  is  quite  in- 
capable of  being  reduced  to  subjection  to  either  of  the  other 
two,  is  the  quality  of  Beauty.  When  we  say  that  a  thing 
is  beautiful,  we  mean  that  it  is  objectively,  universally 
beautiful,  not  that  it  gives  us  pleasure  to  look  at  it. 
The  aesthetic  sense  is  more  than  an  instrument  of  pleasure.. 
We  cannot  speak  of  pleasure  or  pain  withoAit  immediate 
reference  to  individual  feelings,  from  which  there  is  no 
appeal,  but  we  regard  it  as  a  defect  in  others  if  they  cannot 


48  FAITH  [cH. 

Bee  beauty  in  what  we  admire.  We  believe  that  the  laws 
of  beauty  reign  in  the  real  world ;  and  this  for  the  Theist 
implies  that  the  Creator  values  beauty  for  its  own  sake. 
In  natural  history,  we  see  that  aesthetic  perceptions  deter- 
mine choice  in  the  case  of  creatures  quite  low  down  in  the 
scale  ;  Darwin  and  others  have  shown  what  elaborate  and 
exquisite  adornments  Nature  provides  for  beasts,  birds, 
and  insects,  decorations  which  have  no  other  object  than 
to  attract  mates  by  appealing  to  their  highly  developed 
sense  of  beauty.  Personally  I  have  no  doubt  that  many 
of  the  unsatisfactory  features  in  our  civilisation  are  due 
to  the  fact  that  we  see  nothing  wrong  in  unnecessary 
ugliness,  and  so  continually  affront  the  Creator  by  dis- 
regarding one  of  His  primary  attributes. 

The  essence  of  beauty  seems  to  be  the  suitableness  of 
form  to  idea.  A  beautiful  object  is  perhaps  always  valued 
as  the  just  translation  of  an  idea  into  expressive  form. 
When  Aristotle  said  that  the  primary  necessity  for  a  poet 
is  to  be  good  at  metaphors  (using  '  metaphor  '  in  the 
widest  possible  sense),  he  spoke  the  truth.  There  is  a  low 
but  positive  degree  of  beauty  in  mere  symmetry,  which 
is  a  symbolical  expression  of  the  order,  proportion,  and 
uniformity  of  Nature — the  ra^ts  and  Tre/aas  which,  according 
to  Plotinus's  scheme,  we  are  to  begin  by  learning,  through 
the  study  of  Nature.  Subtler  harmonies,  which  express 
and  interpret,  we  know  not  how,  the  deeper  and  more 
complex  secrets  of  hfe,  have  a  higher  value  as  beautiful 
things.  A  beautiful  face  and  person  attract  us  because  they 
are  the  index  of  a  healthy  body,  a  sound  mind,  and  a  fine 
character.  Rising  higher  still,  there  is  beauty  of  thought, 
of  feeling,  and  of  action.  A  man's  Hfe  may,  as  Milton  says, 
be  a  true  poem.  And  ugliness  is  always,  I  think,  essen- 
tially discord  between  form  and  idea.  The  ugUest  thing 
in  Nature,  a  human  face  distorted  by  evil  passions,  is 
hideous  because  the  face  is  that  of  a  man  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  a  sharer  in  the  humanity  redeemed  by  Christ. 


r 


III.]  THE  PRIMARY  GROUND  OF  FAITH  49 

The  discord  here  becomes  revolting.  The  ugliness  of  vul- 
garity, in  all  its  forms,  is  caused  by  the  inappropriateness  of 
form  to  content,  or  the  juxtaposition  of  incompatibles.  It  is 
the  misuse  of  symbols  by  those  who  do  not  understand  them. 

We  have,  then,  three  schemes  of  value, — truth,  goodness, 
and  beauty,  which  cannot  be  reduced  to  each  other.  They 
are  the  three  aspects  under  which  the  life  of  God  is  known 
to  us.^  They  are  not  independent  of  each  other  ;  beauty 
cannot  fall  entirely  out  of  relation  to  truth  or  goodness 
without  ceasing  to  be  beautiful,  as  the  history  of  decadence 
in  art  has  proved  again  and  again.  Neither  can  morality 
wholly  forget  the  claims  of  truth  or  beauty,  as  the  history 
of  Jesuitism  and  of  Puritanism  respectively  should  have 
taught  us.  Neither  can  metaphysics  despise  the  ethical 
and  aesthetic  ideals  without  falling  into  falsehood ;  for 
though  science  may  rightly  and  honourably  accept  limita- 
tions and  consent  to  a  partial  and  one-sided  view,  since  it 
does  not  profess  to  guide  us  to  absolute  truth,  philosophy, 
which  is  the  quest  of  universal  truth,  is  bound  to  leave 
nothing  out. 

~  I  hope  you  will  agree  with  me  in  regarding  these  three 
lines  of  revelation  as  distinct  without  being  separate,  and 
as  constituting,  collectively,  what  we  may  call  natural 
revelation. 

So  the  poets  have  taught  us.  Goethe  (translated  hy 
Carlyle)  thus  asserts  their  triune  harmony  : — 

As  all  nature's  myriad  changes 

Still  one  changeless  power  proclaim, 
So  through  thought's  wide  kingdom  ranges 

One  vast  meaning,  e'er  the  same : 
This  is  Truth — eternal  Reason — 

That  in  Beauty  takes  its  dress, 
And,  serene  through  time  and  season, 

Stands  complete  in  Righteousness. 

1  Lotze  says  that  they  are  giren  intnitirely,  and  thus  hare  a  certainty 
which  cannot  belong  to  mental  concepts. 

D 


50  FAITH  [CH. 

And  Tennyson  says  that 

Beauty,  Truth,  and  Goodness  are  three  sisters 
That  dote  upon  each  other,  friends  to  man. 
Living  together  under  the  same  roof, 
And  never  can  be  sundered  without  tears. 

These  three  have,  each  of  them,  the  marks  of  the  spiritual 
world.  That  is  :  Firstly,  they  claim  to  exist  in  their  own 
right,  and  will  not  be  made  means  or  instruments  to  any- 
thing else,  nor  to  each  other.  Secondly,  they  take  us  out 
of  ourselves  :  they  are  not  our  tools,  but  we  are  rather 
their  instruments.  Thirdly,  they  are,  each  in  its  own 
manner  and  degree,  a  permanent  enrichment  of  our  life — 
a  fund  of  inaHenable  spiritual  wealth.  The  mark  of 
spiritual  wealth  as  opposed  to  the  other  goods  of  life  is  that 
spiritual  wealth  is  unlimited  in  quantity,  being  manifestly 
free  from  such  mechanical  laws  as  the  conservation  of 
energy.  In  the  spiritual  world  one  man's  gain  is  not 
another  man's  loss.  The  spiritual  wealth  of  the  world  is 
capable  of  indefinite  increment. 

We  are  confronted,  then,  with  a  world  of  existence,  and 
a  world  of  values.  The  former,  when  contemplated  in  a 
barely  abstract  way,  and  stripped  of  all  extraneous  im- 
portations from  the  world  of  values,  consists  simply  of 
brute  facts,  unclassified,  unappraised,  and  even  unrelated. 
The  latter,  when  viewed  in  an  equally  abstract  way,  con- 
sists of  the  whole  contents  of  the  moral,  intellectual,  and 
artistic  consciousness.    What  is  the  relation  between  them  ? 

The  relation  of  the  world  of  values  to  the  world  of  exist- 
ence is  a  problem,  perhaps  we  should  say  the  problem,  of 
philosophy.  And  what  is  sometimes  called  the  Venture  of 
Faith  is  the  assumption  that  not  only  are  the  two  related, 
but  that  all  existence  is  capable  of  being  truly  stated  and 
arranged  in  terms  of  value,  and  all  value  in  terms  of 
existence.  Faith  assures  us  that  truth,  goodness,  and 
beauty,  which  are  attributes  of  the  eternal  order,  are  alsd 


HI.]  THE  niBIAEY  GROUND  OF  FAITH  51 

attributes  of  the  world  of  existence,  so  that  in  Hving  for  and 
in  these  eternal  ideas,  so  far  as  we  can  do  so  here,  we  are 
living  in  accordance  with  the  fundamental  laws  of  the  world 
in  which  we  are  placed.  I  do  not  say  that  all  Faith  could 
be  correctly  described  in  the  words  of  the  last  sentence  ; 
obviously  it  could  not.  But  I  think  I  am  right  in  saying 
that  all  Faith  consists  essentially  in  the  recognition  of  a 
world  of  spiritual  values  behind,  yet  not  apart  from,  the 
world  of  natural  phenomena. 

If  this  be  granted,  it  will  be  plain  that  there  are  several 
states  of  mind  which  are  incompatible  with  Faith.  There 
is  the  merely  dull  and  stupid  temper,  which  takes  each  day 
as  it  comes,  eats,  drinks,  and  sleeps,  and  never  thinks  about 
the  meaning  of  things.  There  is  the  pessimistic  temper, 
which  sees  behind  phenomena  only  an  alien  and  hostile 
power.  There  is  the  sceptical  temper,  which  refuses  to 
admit  that  any  clear  revelation  of  God  has  been  made  to 
us  through  truth,  beauty,  and  goodness.  There  is  the 
ironical,  indiflFerent  temper,  of  which  Renan  sometimes 
poses  as  an  exponent.  There  is  the  grumbling  and  rebel- 
lious temper,  which  leads  either  to  acedia  ^  or  to  reckless 
impatience.  *  By  far  the  largest  part  of  human  misery 
is  the  work  of  human  impatience  and  discontent.  By 
impatience  of  thought  we  pervert  or  set  aside  the  evidence 
before  us,  that  we  may  give  ourselves  licence  to  believe 
what  pleases  us  better  than  truth.  By  impatience  of 
action  we  rush  at  something  we  like  better  than  right  and 
goodness,  pushing  our  neighbours  out  of  the  way,  and,  if 
need  be,  tyrannising  over  them.  In  a  more  passive  dis- 
content we  cherish  our  grievances  against  the  order  of 
things,  and  fill  our  hearts  with  bitterness.' "  Lastly,  there 
is  the  selfish  temper,  which  by  attending  to  nothing  and 
noticing  nothing  but  what  promotes  or  thwarts  our  own 

1  One  of  the  'seven  deadly  sins' — a  compound  of  gloom,  sloth,  and 
irritation — St.  Paul's  'sorrow  of  the  world  that  worketh  death.'  See  the 
interesting  discussion  in  Bisbop  Paget's  Spirit  of  Discipline. 

2  Professor  Gwatkin,  The  Knowledge  o/Ood,  i.  p.  130. 


62  FAITH  [CH. 

private  interests,  becomes  wholly  blind  to  whatever  of 
truth,  beauty,  or  goodness  God  has  spread  before  us  for  our 
delight  and  edification.^ 

It  is  plain,  then,  that  Faith  requires  certain  personal 
qualities.  If  we  are  too  stupid  to  ask  for  any  meaning  in 
our  experience,  too  self-absorbed  to  be  interested  in  any- 
thing that  does  not  concern  our  petty  affairs,  too  frivolous 
to  care  seriously  for  what  can  only  be  cared  for  seriously, 
too  gloomy  to  hope,  or  too  wilful  to  learn,  we  are  labouring 
under  fatal  disqualifications  for  the  experience  of  Faith. 
This  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  of  Christ :  *  If  any  man 
is  willing  to  do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,' 
and  '  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God.' 

What  distinguishes  Faith  from  existential  knowledge  is 
the  recognition  of  an  objective,  external,  and  ideal  standard 
of  value — of  an  idea,  or  system  of  ideas,  of  goodness,  truth, 
and  beauty,  by  which  things  given  in  experience  may  be 
judged  and  classified.  It  is  an  essential  part  of  Faith 
that  this  standard  should  be  appUed  to  given  experience, 
and  it  is  also  requisite  that  experience  should  be  appealed 
to  in  verification  of  the  claims  of  Faith.  This  last  point 
is  important ;  and  it  leads  us  to  recognise  a  pecuHarity 
of  the  conditions  under  which  Faith  is  exercised.  The 
verification  to  which  Faith  appeals  can  never  be  complete 
while  we  live  here.  Truths  of  the  eternal  order  seem  to  be 
always  broken  and  refracted  as  they  reach  us.  They  mani- 
fest themselves  to  concrete  experience  in  an  oppositional, 
bipolar  form,  so  that  we  continually  find  ourselves  con- 
fronted by  an  obstinate  negation.  Truth,  we  may  almost 
say,  is  a  spark  which  is  only  generated  by  friction.  This, 
it  may  be,  is  a  necessary  condition  of  the  world  of  becoming. 

1  The  word  *  selfishness '  must  here  be  extended  to  cover  all  purely  self, 
regarding  motives.  Faith  must  have  an  object  outside  self.  Theoretical 
self-knowledge,  egoism,  refined  or  otherwise,  the  desire  of  self-improvement 
as  an  absolute  end,  are  outside  the  religious  sphere.  Religious  attention  to 
one's  own  character,  knowledge,  or  circumstances  has  always  reference  to  an 
objective  standard,  and  derives  its  s unction  from  a  principle  outside  the  self. 
Cf,  Hartmann,  Religion  des  Geistes,  p.  4. 


III.]  THE  PEIMARY  GROUND  OF  FAITH  53 

One  reason  why  Faith  cannot  verify  itself  is  that  the 
world  is  still  in  the  making.  In  the  words  of  St.  Paul, 
*  we  see  not  yet  all  things  put  under  '  the  Son  of  God,  '  in 
whom  (nevertheless)  all  things  consist.'  In  all  probability 
humanity  (even  if,  with  the  latest  authorities,  we  push 
back  the  beginnings  of  civilisation  ten  or  fifteen  thousand 
years)  is  still  a  child,  and  will  scale  heights  yet  undreamed 
of.  It  would  indeed  be  strange  and,  to  a  thoughtful  man, 
disquieting,  if  our  experience  were  symmetrically  rounded 
off,  so  that  no  further  growth  in  knowledge  could  be  ex- 
pected. Faith,  then,  '  transcends  experience '  ;  it  ap- 
pears as  a  constructive  activity.  It  employs  the  imagina- 
tion to  fill  out  what  is  wanting  in  experience.  Faith  en- 
deavours to  find  harmony  in  apparent  discord,  and  to 
anticipate  the  workings  of  the  divine  purpose.  In  a  sense, 
all  thought  may  be  said  to  '  transcend  experience,'  if  by 
experience  we  mean  sense-perception  ;  and  Faith,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  not  merely  a  function  of  thought,  but  a  basal 
energy  of  the  whole  man.  It  includes  an  element  of  will ; 
and  the  office  of  will  is  not  to  register  experience,  but  to 
make  it. 

Faith,  therefore,  always  contains  an  element  of  risk,  of 
venture  ;  and  we  are  impelled  to  make  the  venture  by  the 
affinity  and  attraction  which  we  feel  in  ourselves  (through 
the  infusion,  as  Christians  believe,  of  a  higher  light  and  life 
from  above)  to  those  eternal  principles  which  in  the  world 
around  us  appear  to  be  only  struggling  for  supremacy. 

So  far  we  have  maintained  that  the  primary  ground  of 
Faith  is  a  normal  and  ineradicable  feeling,  instinct,  or 
attraction,  present  in  all  minds  which  are  not  disqualified 
from  having  it  by  peculiarities  which  we  should  all  agree, 
probably,  in  calling  defects,  a  feeling  or  instinct  that  be- 
hind the  world  of  phenomena  there  is  a  world  of  eternal 
values,  attracting  us  towards  itself.  These  values  are 
manifested,  and  exercise  their  attraction,  in  and  through 
phenomena,  though  the  section  of  the  world  which  we  know, 


54  FAITH  fcH. 

and  from  which  we  generalise,  is  an  inadequate  receptacle 
for  them.  Further,  these  values  have  been  classified  as 
ideas  of  Truth,  Beauty,  and  Goodness,  a  threefold  cord 
which  is  not  quickly  broken.  This  is  the  most  general 
description  possible  of  the  objects  and  contents  of  Faith, 
and  it  is,  I  beUeve,  all  that  this  primary  ground  of 
Faith  gives  us.  It  contains  vast  implications,  which 
can  only  be  unravelled  by  the  full  experience  of  life, 
developing  our  personality  along  the  lines  of  thought, 
will,  and  feeling.  These  three  faculties  have  a  natural 
connection  with  the  ideals  of  the  true,  the  good,  and  the 
beautiful  respectively,  though  we  must  avoid  most 
carefully  the  error  of  separating  things  which  can  never 
exist  independently  of  each  other. 


FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  65 


I 


I 


CHAPTER    IV 

FAITH  AS  PURE   FEELING 

In  my  last  lecture  I  tried  to  keep  to  the  most  imiversal 
and  primary  aspects  of  Faith.  But  I  have  gone  further 
in  differentiating  its  activities  and  aspirations  than  some 
would  wish  to  follow  me.  There  are  some  who  wish  to  keep 
the  Faith-feeling  uncoiltaminated  by  thought  and  will ; 
who  desire  that  it  should  remain  a  vague,  mysterious 
apprehension  of  the  infinite,  an  immediate  intuition  of  the 
ineffable. 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  include  all  the  mystics  under 
this  class.  The  greatest  mystics  have  not  made  the  mis- 
take of  identifying  the  primary  ground  of  Faith  with 
feeling,  if  by  feeling  is  meant  the  faculty  which  psycho- 
logists recognise  as  constituting,  together  with  thought 
and  will,  our  psychical  life.  The  differentia  of  mysticism 
is  an  intense  inner  life ;  the  drama  of  the  mystic's  spiritual 
ascent,  his  struggle  after  purification,  illumination,  and 
unity  with  the  Divine,  is  played  out  within  his  mind  and 
not  on  the  stage  of  history.  But  whatever  may  be  his 
notion  of  the  perfect  state,  when  he  shall  have  attained 
the  Beatific  Vision,  his  life  is  by  no  means  one  of  pure 
emotion  ;  it  is  characterised  by  intense  striving,  and  often 
by  profound  thought.  The  mystics  with  whom  we  are 
concerned  in  this  lecture  are  the  Quietists — those  whose 
favourite  maxim  is,  '  Be  still  then,  and  know  that  I  am 
God  * ;  and  we  have  also  to  deal  with  emotional  theism, 
which  is  not  quite  the  same  as  mysticism. 

We  cannot  be  surprised  that  many  have  supposed  that 


56  FAITH  [CH. 

Faith  is  a  pure  feeling.  For  our  feelings  seem  to  us  to  be 
the  deepest  and  most  vivid  of  our  experiences.  Thought 
never  shows  us  what  a  thing  is  in  itself,  but  only  how  it 
is  related  to  other  objects.  Feeling,  especially  those  most 
characteristic  feelings,  love  and  hate,  goes  deeper,  As 
Tennyson  says  in  that  wonderful  poem,  The  Ancient 
Sage: — 

For  Knowledge  is  the  swallow  on  the  lake 
That  sees  and  stirs  the  surface-shadow  there. 
But  never  yet  hath  dipt  into  the  abysm, 
The  Abysm  of  all  Abysms,  beneath,  within 
The  blue  of  sky  and  sea,  the  green  of  earth.  ,  •  , 

Religion,  too,  in  its  various  moods  is  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  emotions.  Fear,  humility,  love,  trust, 
remorse,  the  joy  of  reconciliation,  the  pain  of  estrange- 
ment, are  all  emotional  states.  Moreover,  there  is  a  vast 
and  half-explored  background  of  vague  feeling  which  fades 
away  into  the  subconscious,  a  reservoir  of  life  behind 
consciousness,  which  seems  as  if  it  might  be  the  very  soil 
out  of  which  Faith  springs  and  grows.  If  we  could  tap 
this  subliminal  self,  and  force  it  to  give  up  its  secrets, 
should  we  not  find  our  Faith  definite,  explicit,  and  self- 
sufficing  ?  So  the  mystic  wishes  to  interrogate  this  dark 
background,  to  bring  it  into  the  Hght.  He  does  not  wish 
to  contaminate  it  with  infusions  from  his  surface  con- 
sciousness, but  to  see  what  the  twilight  conceals. 

Now  the  genuineness  of  the  pure  mystical  experience — 
the  feeling  which  the  devout  mystic  interprets  as  the 
immediate  presence  of  God — is  proved  beyond  cavil.  I 
am  not  speaking  now  of  that  rare  trance  which  Plotinus 
enjoyed  four  times  and  Porphyry  once,  but  of  something 
much  more  familiar — those  *  consolations  *  which  almost 
all  religious  people  enjoy  at  times  during  their  devotions. 
There  is  reason  to  beheve  that  the  majority  of  people  who 
beUeve  in  God  do  so  because  they  consider  that  they  have 


IV.]  FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  67 

had  immediate  experience  of  Him.  An  American  psycho- 
logist found  that  out  of  seventy-seven  persons  whom  he 
questioned  on  the  subject  no  less  than  fifty-six  rested 
their  Faith  on  the  experience  of  immediate  communication 
with  God.^  I  am  surprised,  indeed,  that  the  proportion 
was  not  even  larger.  For  who  that  has  prayed  regularly 
has  failed  to  have  at  times  an  intensely  vivid  experience 
that  his  prayers  are  being  heard  and  answered  ?  The 
following  description  is  typical.  '  Times  without  number, 
in  moments  of  supreme  doubt,  disappointment,  dis- 
couragement, unhappiness,  a  certain  prayer-formula, 
which  by  degrees  has  built  itself  up  in  my  mind,  has  been 
followed  in  its  utterance  by  quick  and  astonishing  rehef. 
Sometimes  doubt  has  been  transformed  into  confident 
assurance,  mental  weakness  utterly  routed  by  strength, 
self-distrust  changed  into  self-confidence,  fear  into  courage, 
dismay  into  confident  and  brightest  hope.  These  transi- 
tions have  sometimes  come  by  degrees — in  the  course,  say, 
of  an  hour  or  two  ;  at  other  times  they  have  been  instan- 
taneous, flashing  up  in  brain  and  heart  as  if  a  powerful 
electric  stroke  had  cleared  the  air.'  ^ 

I  will  not  now  dispute  with  those  who  would  remind  me 
that  what  the  devout  person  calls  God  may  be  only  a  deeper 
or  higher  state  of  his  own  consciousness.  Perhaps  the  very 
deepest  and  highest  state  of  our  own  consciousness  is 
nothing  else  but  beholding  the  face  of  God  and  hearing 
His  voice  ;  but  that  is  not  my  point  just  now.  What  is 
the  rank  and  value,  in  the  rehgious  fife,  of  this  very  common 
feeling  of  the  presence  of  God  ?  Is  it  a  great  enough  thing 
to  be  the  complete  satisfaction  of  Faith,  so  that  we  need 
go  no  further,  but  may  rest  content  with  the  statement 
that  Faith  is  an  immediate  feeling  or  consciousness  of  God's 
presence  ? 

In  order  to  do  justice  to  this  conception  of  Faith  I  will 
give  you  some  extracts  from  Schleiermacher  (1 768- 1 834), 

1  Pratt,  Psychology  of  Edigious  Beli^,  p.  245.  «  Jd.  p.  276. 


58  FAITH  [cm. 

who  may  be  taken  as  one  of  the  best  representatives  of  the 
religious  type  which  we  are  considering  in  this  Lecture. 
You  will  observe  that  in  this  writer  the  object  of  Faith  is 
not  analysed  even  so  far  as  I  analysed  it  in  my  last 
Lecture.  It  is  not  determined  as  the  triune  ideal  of  the 
Good,  the  True,  and  the  Beautiful.  It  is  the  vague 
Infinite.  The  religious  instinct  is  fixed  in  its  primary 
form  ;  it  is  identified  with  feeling,  instead  of  being  the 
common  ground  of  our  intellectual,  moral,  and  emotional 
activities. 

Schleiermacher  is  the  theologian  among  the  German 
romanticists.  He  conducted  a  campaign  against  the  so- 
called  '  Enlightenment '  (Aufkldrung) ,  with  its  crude  and 
self-satisfied  rationaUsm.  We  shall  meet  with  this  poor 
type  of  intellectualism  in  a  later  chapter.  It  encouraged 
a  cold,  common-sense  view  of  life,  and  despised  enthusiasm. 
The  romantic  movement  rushed  to  the  opposite  extreme. 
Its  first  principle  was  to  value  immediate  impressions 
above  reflection  and  reason.  In  the  sphere  of  religion 
this  means  that  emotional  experience,  devout  feeling,  is 
the  sole  foundation  of  religious  behef.  *  Why,'  Schleier- 
macher asks,  '  do  you  not  fix  your  eyes  on  the  religious  life 
itself,  and  in  particular  on  those  pious  elevations  of  the  mind 
in  which  all  other  activities  are  checked  or  almost  sus- 
pended, and  the  whole  soul  fused  in  an  immediate  feeling 
of  the  infinite  and  eternal,  and  of  her  own  union  with  it  ?  ' 

*  Religion  resigns  at  once  all  claims  on  anything  that 
belongs  to  science  and  moraUty.'  (This  energetic  repudia- 
tion is  directed,  firstly,  against  the  rationalism  of  the 
eighteenth-century  Deists,  who  held  that  Faith  is  related 
to  knowledge  only  as  probability  to  certaipty,  being  an 
intellectual  judgment  based  on  examination  of  evidence  ; 
and,   secondly,   against  the   austere  moralism  of  Kant.) 

*  The  contemplation  of  the  pious  is  the  immediate  conscious- 
ness of  the  universal  existence  of  all  finite>^lhings  in  and 
through  the  Infinite,  and  of  all  temporal  Things  in  and 


IV.]  FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  69 

through  the  Eternal.  J  Religion  is  to  have  and  know  life 
only  in  immediate  feeling,  as  existing  in  the  infinite  and 
eternal.  Where  this  is  found,  religion  is  satisfied  ;  where 
it  hides  itself,  she  is  in  anguish  and  disquietude.  Religion 
is  not  knowledge  or  science,  either  of  the  world  or  of  God. 
The  pious  man,  as  pious,  knows  nothing  about  ethical 
science.  It  is  the  same  with  action  itself.  While  morality 
always  appears  as  manipulating,  as  self-controlling,  piety 
appears  as  a  surrender,  a  submission  to  be  moved  by  the 
Whole  that  stands  over  against  man.  The  pious  man  may 
not  know  at  all,  but  he  cannot  know  falsely.  His  nature 
is  reality  which  knows  reality.  True  religion  is  a  sense 
and  taste  of  the  Infinite.  If  a  man  is  not  one  with  the 
Eternal,  in  the  unity  of  intuition  and  feeling  which  is 
immediate,  he  remains  for  ever  apart.'  Schleiermacher 
reserves  his  keenest  scorn  for  those  who  make  religion 
ancillary  to  morality.  '  A  high  praise  it  would  be  for  the 
heavenly  one,  if  she  could  only  look  after  the  earthly  affairs 
of  men  in  this  poor  fashion  !  Great  honour  for  her,  to 
quicken  men's  consciences  a  little,  and  make  them  more 
careful !  What  is  loved  and  valued  only  for  an  advantage 
that  lies  outside  it  is  not  essentially  necessary,  and  a  reason- 
able man  will  put  no  higher  price  upon  it  than  the  value 
of  the  end  for  which  it  is  desired.  And  I  cannot  attach 
much  importance  to  the  wrong  acts  which  it  prevents  in 
this  way,  nor  to  the  right  acts  which  it  is  said  to  procure. 
What  I  maintain  is  that  piety  springs  up,  necessarily  and 
spontaneously,  from  the  inward  parts  of  every  better  soul, 
that  she  has  in  the  heart  a  province  of  her  own,  where  she 
bears  unobstructed  sway,  and  that  she  is  worthy  to  be 
welcomed  and  acknowledged  by  the  noblest  and  most 
excellent,  for  her  own  inner  nature's  sake.'  ^ 
Faith,  theik,  for  Schleiermacher,  is  a  spontaneous,  im- 

1  The  English  reader  will  find  a  useful  and  characteristic  selection  from 
Schleiermacher's  writings  in  Caldecott  and  Mackintosh,  Selections  from  the 
Literature  of  Theism,  pp.  256-304. 


60  FAITH  [CH. 

mediate  feeling  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal,  with  which  the 
human  spirit  identifies  itself.  The  feeling  must  be  wholly 
general  and  undifferentiated.  He  bids  us  to  ponder  on 
our  own  experiences,  but  not  to  analyse  them.  '  You  must 
know  how  to  listen  to  yourselves  before  your  own  con- 
sciousness. What  you  are  to  notice  is  the  rise  of  your  own 
consciousness,  and  not  to  reflect  upon  something  already 
there.  As  soon  as  you  have  made  any  definite  activity  ^f 
your  soul  an  object  of  contemplation,  you  have  begun  to 
separate.  The  more  your  own  state  sways  you,  the  paler 
and  more  unrecognisable  the  image  becomes.'  *  Ideas  and 
principles  are  all  foreign  to  religion.'  '  Religion  by  itself 
does  not  urge  men  to  activity  at  all.'  Doctrinal  proposi- 
tions, he  came  to  believe  and  to  teach,  are  only  descriptions 
of  pious  states  of  consciousness.  They  are  secondary 
products. 

These  quotations  will  give  you  an  idea  of  what  this 
conception  of  Faith  or  Religion  as  immediate  intuition  of 
the  Infinite  means.  It  not  only  finds  but  leaves  us  ex- 
tremely vague  as  to  the  contents  of  Faith.  Whether  a  man 
represents  the  Infinite  Being  as  personal  or  impersonal 
depends,  says  Schleiermacher,  on  whether  his  tendency  is 
towards  a  voluntaristic  or  an  intellectual  view  of  things. 
He  himself,  it  would  appear,  believed  neither  in  a  personal 
God  nor  in  individual  immortafity,  though  he  expresses 
himself  very  cautiously  on  both  subjects. 

Another  classical  example  of  Intuitionism  is  Jacobi 
(1743-1819),  who,  being  more  of  a  philosopher  than  a 
theologian,  advocates  the  emotional  ground  of  religion 
from  an  external  and  (one  might  almost  say)  an  intellec- 
tualist  standpoint.  He  has  been  called  '  a  pantheist  in 
head  and  a  mystic  in  heart '  ;  but  it  appears  to  me  th^t 
he  maintains  intuitionism  largely  from  a  perception  of  its 
strategic  advantages  in  controversy.  It  is  hard  to  refute 
a  man  who  declares  that  he  has  received  private  and 
authentic  information  that  what  he  says  is  true.    Jacobi 


FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  61 

holds  that  Just  as  we  apprehend  the  sensible  world  by  our 
bodily  senses,  so  we  apprehend  the  spiritual  world  by 
another  organ,  to  which  he  gives  different  names.^  God 
requires  no  proof,  for  His  existence  is  more  evident  to  us 
than  our  own.  *  If  God  were  not  immediately  present  to 
us  through  His  image  in  our  hearts,  what  is  these  which 
could  make  Him  known  to  us  ?  A  revelation  through 
external  phenomena  can  at  best  only  stand  in  the  same 
relation  to  that  which  is  internal  and  original,  as  that  in 
which  speech  stands  to  reason.  Just  as  man  feels  himself, 
and  pictures  himself  to  himself,  so,  only  with  greater  power, 
he  represents  to  himself  the  Godhead.'  It  is  plain  that  for 
Jacobi  the  only  source  of  our  knowledge  of  God  is  an 
intense  inner  consciousness,  unaided  by  reflective  thought, 
by  moral  effort,  or  by  knowledge  of  the  external  world. 
He  is  not  afraid  to  deduce  from  this  self-consciousness, 
not  only  the  existence  of  a  transcendent  God,  but  the  other 
two  dogmas  which  to  Kantians  are  fundamental — freedom 
and  immortality.  How  these  truths  can  be  proved  by 
immediate  feeling  he  nowhere  tries  to  explain,  nor,  I  fear, 
is  any  explanation  possible. 

Jacobi,  as  I  have  said,  gives  different  names  to  the  faculty 
by  which  we  apprehend  supersensual  truth.  Sometimes 
he  calls  it  the  Reason.  It  is  not  easy  to  classify  intuition- 
ists  who  claim  an  immediate,  a  priori  knowledge  which  is 
different  from  feeling  ;  but  perhaps  this  is  the  best  place 
to  deal  with  them.  This  position  has  been  taken  by  several 
well-known  writers,  among  whom  we  may  name  the 
American  divine,  Theodore  Parker.  It  is  *  refuted,'  under 
the  name  of  '  ontologism,'  by  the  very  able  Jesuit  philo- 
sopher, Boedder.2  The  claim  of  '  ontologism  '  is  that  the 
mind  of  man,  by  its  very  nature,  has  a  certain  direct  con- 

1  E.g,  * Glatibenskraft  iiber  die  Vernunft ' :  'Geistesgefiihl.'  'Reason, 'he 
says  elsewhere,/ is  the  faculty  of  assuming  the  absolutely  True,  Good,  and 
Beautiful,  -with  the  full  persuasion  of  the  objective  validity  of  this  assump- 
tion.' 

*  Boedder,  Ifattvral  Theology,  pp.  12-29. 


62  FAITH  [cH. 

sciousness  of  the  existence,  and  of  some  of  the  attributes, 
of  God.  If  this  were  true,  no  effort,  it  would  seem,  could 
be  needed  to  realise  God's  presence  in  relation  to  His 
creatures  ;  for  it  is  in  relation  to  His  creatures  that  the 
alleged  consciousness  belongs  to  us.  It  is  difficult  to  under- 
stand the  grounds  of  a  '  rational  certainty  '  which  can  give 
no  account  of  itself.  The  certainty  of  the  '  ontologist,' 
which  he  calls  immediate  apprehension,  has  the  appearance 
rather  of  '  voluntary  certainty,'  pure  choice,  in  which  case 
he  classifies  himself  wrongly,  or  of  a  mixture  of  will  and 
feeling  illegitimately  used  to  establish  matters  of  fact  (the 
Ritschlian  value-judgment  intruding  into  metaphysics). 
In  short,  immediate  certainty,  which  does  not  rest  upon 
feeling,  is  Uttle  more  than  a  refusal  to  listen  to  arguments 
on  the  other  side.  The  error  of  *  ontologism,'  from  the 
standpoint  of  these  lectures,  is  its  refusal  to  admit  the 
necessity  of  an  act  of  Faith.  The  Beatific  Vision  which  we 
hope  for  will  be  an  immediate  perception  of  God,  and 
Faith  confidently  anticipates  this  consummation ;  but 
neither  feeling  nor  any  ill-defined  and  mysterious  special 
faculty  can  make  Faith  superfluous  by  giving  us  at  once 
the  immediate  apprehension  which  is  to  be  our  final  reward. 

A  more  recent  example  of  Intuitionism  is  to  be  found 
in  the  philosophy  of  Lotze,  with  whom  it  is  a  desperate 
expedient  to  escape  the  pure  subjectivity  and  phenomenal- 
ism in  which  his  theory  of  knowledge  threatens  to  land 
him.  Like  many  other  German  thinkers  he  appears  to 
confound  the  feeling  of  value  with  the  judgment  of  value. 
There  can  be  no  judgment  of  any  kind  without  an  intellec- 
tual process.  Wherever  the  '  feeling  of  value  '  has  any 
well-defined  contents,  the  intellect  has  been  at  work. 

In  France,  A.  Reville  holds  that  '  Religion  rests  on  a 
sentiment,  sui  generis  and  spontaneous.'  He  follows 
Schleiermacher,  but  insists  very  rightly  that  this  *  senti- 
ment '  is  not  merely  a  feeling  of  dependence,  but  a  feeling 
of  7anity.     This  sentiment,  he  says,  gives  a  certain  valua- 


IV.]  FAITH  AS  PUEE  FEELING  63 

Hon,  which  *  imagination  and  thought '  translate  into  the 
idea  of  God.  De  Pressense  postulates  a  '  Verbe  Interieur  ' 
as  the  source  of  '  religious  sentiment.' 

The  theology  of  pure  Feeling  has  not  been  largely  repre- 
sented in  this  country,  which  has  generally  been  distrustful 
of  sentiment.  The  great  eighteenth-century  mystic, 
William  Law,  approaches  this  type,  in  consequence  of  his 
distrust  of  '  Reason,'  ^  but  he  does  not  belong  to  it,  because 
he  has  a  very  firm  grasp  of  the  truth  that  Faith  must  be 
lived  into.  When  he  became  a  mystic  he  did  not  forget 
the  austere  morality  of  the  Serious  Call.  '  The  truth  of 
Christianity,'  he  says  at  the  end  of  his  treatise  on  The  Way 
to  Divine  Knowledge,  '  is  the  Spirit  of  God  hving  and  work- 
ing in  it ;  and  where  the  Spirit  is  not  the  life  of  it,  there 
the  outward  form  is  but  like  the  outward  carcase  of  a 
departed  soul.  For  the  spiritual  fife  is  as  much  its  own 
proof  as  the  natural  life,  and  needs  no  outward  or  foreign 
thing  to  bear  witness  to  it.' 

Robert  Browning,  in  later  life,  seems  to  preach  a  purely 
emotional  theism.     Such  hnes  as  : — 

Wholly  distrust  thy  knowledge,  then,  and  trust 
As  wholly  love  allied  to  ignorance ; 
or : — 

^  So  let  us  say — not,  Since  we  know,  we  love, 
'But  rather,  Since  we  love,  we  know  enough, 

are  indeed  startling  from  the  most  learned  of  our  poets. 

1  Examples  of  Law's  /iiaoKoyla  (the  only  blot  on  his  fine  and  manly  religious 
writings)  may  be  found  in  The  Way  to  Divine  Knowledge,  e.g. ,  p.  51.  '  Reason 
is  so  far  from  being  able  to  help  man  to  that  knowledge,  which  his  nature  and 
condition  wants,  that  it  can  only  help  his  ignorance  to  increase  and  fructify 
in  doubts,  fictions,  and  absurd  debates.  And  the  thing  cannot  be  otherwise . 
Man  must  walk  in  a  vain  shadow,  so  long  as  Reason  is  his  guide.  .  .  .  He 
who  turns  to  his  reason,  as  the  true  power  and  light  of  his  nature,  betrays 
the  same  ignorance  of  the  whole  nature,  power,  and  oflice  of  reason,  as  if  he 
was  to  try  to  smell  with  his  eyes  or  see  with  his  nose.  For  reason  has  only 
its  one  work  or  power,  which  it  cannot  alter  nor  exceed ;  and  that  one  work 
is  to  be  a  bare  observer  and  comparer  of  things  that  manifest  themselves  to 
it  by  the  senses,'  etc.  Law  cannot  be  confounded  with  the  anti-mystical 
moralists ;  his  rejection  of  reason,  therefore,  implies  a  reliance  on  pure  in- 
tuition, though  it  is  a  progressive  intuition,  conditioned  by  growth  in  grace. 


64  FAITH  [CH. 

Such  an  attitude  can  only  be  explained  as  a  resolute  ad- 
herence to  moral  and  emotional  optimism,  in  spite  of 
a  growing  intellectual  pessimism.^ 

We  may  now  attempt  to  answer  our  question,  What  is 
the  rank  and  value  of  this  immediate  feeling  of  the  Divine, 
which  psychologically,  at  any  rate,  is  a  well-estabUshed 
fact  of  experience  ? 

Schleiermacher  tells  us  that  this  feeling  is  present  *  in 
almost  every  better  soul.'  This,  I  think,  is  true  ;  for  it  is, 
as  I  have  said,  an  essential  part  of  prayer.  All  religious 
people  pray ;  and  all,  I  suppose,  have  a  vivid  conscious- 
ness, at  times,  that  prayer  is  not  merely  a  soliloquy,  but  a 
form  of  intercourse  with  a  higher  Being.  But  it  is  surely 
significant  that  the  mystics,  with  one  consent,  tell  us  that 
these  *  consolations ' — this  vivid  consciousness  of  the 
presence  of  God — are  most  common  at  the  beginning  of  the 
spiritual  ascent.  The  young  aspirant  after  holiness  may 
expect  them  at  first,  but  he  must  also  expect  that  after  a 
time  they  will  be  withdrawn.  The  best  spiritual  guides 
warn  their  consultants  not  to  attach  too  much  importance 
to  them.  This  fact,  so  contrary  to  what  might  have  been 
expected  and  desired,  seems  to  indicate  that  immediate 
feeling  of  the  Deity  is  characteristic  of  an  early  and  un- 
developed stage  of  the  religious  life.^  Its  very  emptiness 
gives  it  a  mysterious  attractiveness,  bom  of  awe  and 
curiosity  ;  but  in  the  normal  course,  the  purely  mystical 
intuition  partially  loses  itself  for  a  time  in  the  multipUcity 
of  the  tasks  which  it  enjoins,  and  only  draws  together 
again  when  its  work  is  near  its  close. 

Nevertheless,  we  must  not  forget  that  there  have  been 
many  religious  geniuses  in  whom  this  immediate  *  feeling 
and  taste  *  of  the  Eternal,  to  use  Schleiermacher's  phrase, 
has  been  the  most  intense  experience  of  their  lives,  persist- 

1  Cf.  my  Studies  of  English  Mystics,  pp.  224-5. 

2  The  strict  Quietists,  however  {e.g.  Molinos),  regard  the  withdrawal  of 
these  consolations  as  a  call  to  ascend  into  a  still  more  rarefied  atmosphere. 
C/.  The  SpvrUxuU  Guide,  passim. 


IV.]  FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  66 

ing  through  all  stages  of  their  spiritual  growth.  A  large 
collection  of  evidence  on  this  subject  has  been  made  by  a 
Canadian  writer,  Dr.  Bucke,  in  a  very  queer  book  called 
Cosmic  Consciousness.  The  author  maintains  that  Cosmic 
Consciousness  is  a  higher  degree  of  perception  which  is 
being  slowly  evolved  in  the  progress  of  the  race,  just  as  the 
sense  of  colour  is  a  recent  acquisition,  which  was  possessed 
only  in  a  rudimentary  manner  by  the  ancient  Greeks  and 
the  authors  of  the  Indian  sacred  literature.  At  present, 
the  feeling  is  weak  and  fitful,  and  manifests  itself  in  an 
almost  infinite  range  of  intensity.  Very  many  can  go  no 
further,  from  their  own  experience,  than  to  endorse  the 
well-known  lines  of  Browning  : — 

Oh,  we  're  sunk  enough  here,  God  knows  ! 

But  not  quite  so  sunk  that  moments, 
Sure  tho'  seldom,  are  denied  us, 

When  the  spirit's  true  endowments 
Stand  out  plainly  from  its  false  ones, 

And  apprise  it  if  pursuing 
Or  the  right  way  or  the  wrong  way, 

To  its  triumph  or  undoing. 

Or,  as  suggested  by  Wordsworth's  famous  Ode,  they  may 
remember  a  time  when  the  vision,  which  has  now  faded 
into  the  light  of  common  day,  was  frequently  with  them. 

But  this  higher  faculty,  so  our  author  thinks,  has  begun 
to  appear  sporadically,  in  the  most  advanced  specimens 
of  the  race,  as  an  assured  possession,  and  it  is  becoming 
more  frequent  as  the  centuries  go  on.  Out  of  many 
hundreds  of  cases,  which  he  considers  authentic,  he  selects 
thirteen  which  are  *  so  great  that  they  can  never  fade  from 
human  memory.'  This  odd  list  consists  of  Buddha,  Jesus 
Christ,  St.  Paul,  Plotinus,  Mohammed,  Dante,  Las  Casas, 
St.  John  of  the  Cross,  Shakespeare  (whom  he  chooses  to 
call  Bacon),  Bohme,  Blake,  Balzac,  and  Walt  Whitman. 
The  book,  in  spite  of  the  author's  critical  vagaries,  is  full 
of  interest  to  the  psychologist,  and  I  am  not  disposed  to 

B 


66  FAITH  [cH, 

dispute  the  main  thesis,  that  if  the  conditions  of  civilised 
life  ever  promote  the  improvement  of  the  race,  instead  of 
its  deterioration,  as  I  fear  they  do  at  present,  the  man  of 
the  future  may  be  able  to  live  habitually  and  consciously 
in  a  larger  air  than  is  possible  to  any  except  the  most 
favoured  spirits  at  the  present  time. 

But  the  important  question  for  us  now  is,  whether  this 
immediate  perception  of  the  Eternal  is  capable  of  forming 
the  contents  of  Faith,  or  whether  in  fact  it  has  any  con- 
tents at  all  until  it  has  been  translated  into  thought,  will, 
and  action.  '  Pure  feeling,'  says  Professor  Flint  curtly  but 
truly,  '  is  pure  nonsense.'  Schleiermacher's  conception  of 
Faith  is  anything  but  '  simple  feeling  '  ;  it  is  a  highly 
elaborate  product  of  the  peculiar  ideas  of  his  age.  And 
even  so,  it  is  very  empty.  I  have  already  mentioned  the 
hlankness  of  the  picture,  which  is  insisted  on  by  Schleier- 
macher.  This,  as  is  well  known,  is  a  common  feature  of 
mystical  literature.  The  pure  mystical  state  (which  even 
William  James  says  is  identical  with  the  Faith-state)  is 
without  form  and  void.  But  ideas  must  be  given  through 
something  ;  there  can  be  no  purely  internal  revelation, 
just  as  there  can  be  no  purely  external  revelation.  Some 
mystics  have  claimed  that  they  have  got  beyond  forms  and 
differences,  which  are  the  mark  of  the  transitory  pheno- 
menal world,  and  that  the  undifferentiated  feeling  which 
they  prize  so  much  is  an  intuition  of  the  unity  which  under- 
lies all  difference.  Others  only  lament  that  they  cannot 
utter  what  they  have  seen  and  felt : — 

O  could  I  tell,  ye  surely  would  believe  it ! 

O  could  I  only  say  what  I  have  seen  ! 
How  should  I  tell,  or  how  can  ye  receive  it, 

How,  till  He  bringeth  you  where  I  have  been.^ 

But  there  is  all  the  difference  between  a  Unity  which 
excludes  all  difference,  and  a  Unity  which  includes  all 

1  Myers,  St.  Paul. 


IV.]  FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  67 

difference.  And  I  cannot  doubt  that  many  mystics  have 
beheved  themselves  to  have  completed  their  journey 
when  in  reality  they  have  not  even  begun  it.  Faith,  which 
Philo,  as  we  have  seen,  puts  at  the  end  of  the  journey, 
should,  as  Christian  theology  has  always  maintained,  be 
placed  at  its  beginning.  Faith  and  Love,  says  Clement, 
are  not  taught  or  teachable  (ra  a.Kpa  ov  StSao-Kcrai)  ;  but 
between  Faith,  which  is  the  starting-point  of  the  Christian 
race,  and  the  perfect  Love  that  casteth  out  fear,  which  is  its 
end,  there  is  a  long  series  of  lessons  which  have  to  be  learned. 

Feeling  is  the  mirror  which  reflects  ideas  and  ideals. 
It  has  been  defined  as  the  '  passive  echo  in  consciousness 
of  the  unconscious  psychical  process.'  ^  It  creates  nothing  ; 
it  seems  to  project  ideas  and  ideals,  because  it  reflects 
unconscious  motions  of  thought  and  will.  Feeling  in  itself 
is  neither  good  nor  bad,  true  nor  untrue.^  It  is  simply  a 
fact  of  the  soul-life.  Its  truth  depends  on  the  truth  of  the 
idea  which  determines  it ;  its  goodness  on  the  goodness  of 
the  motive  which  is  bound  up  with  it.  Schleiermacher, 
in  his  later  editions  of  Eeden  uber  die  Religion,  smuggles  in 
Anschauung,  the  most  primitive  form  of  ideation,  into  his 
conception  of  Feeling  ;  in  the  earlier  he  admits  Anschauung 
by  the  side  of  Feeling,  as  a  religious  function.  This 
enables  him  to  speak  of  the  '  truth  of  Feeling,'  determined 
by  the  truth  of  the  contents  of  the  idea.  But  '  pure 
Feeling  '  does  not  include  any  form  of  ideation. 

In  fact,  religious  feeling  (much  feeling  is  not  religious) 
is  only  aroused  by  religious  ideas  of  objective  truth  and 
value.  '  Mere  dependence '  is  nonsense,  unless  there  is  a 
known  object  on  which  to  depend. 

It  is,  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  a  mistake  to  regard  the 
primary  ground  of  Faith,  the  immediate  feeling  of  an 
eternal  world,  as  sufficient.     Feeling  is  formless  and  life- 

1  Von  Hartiuann. 

2  So  Hegel  says  :  '  That  anything  is  in  our  feeling  proves  nothing  good 
about  the  thing  itself.  The  most  royal  flower  blooms  there  side  by  side  'witli 
the  most  mischievous  weed.' 


68  FAITH  [cH. 

j  less ;  it  gives  us  no  definite  beliefs,  and  prescribes  no 
I  definite  duties.  Even  the  three  aspects  which  I  have 
I  mentioned,  the  good,  the  true,  and  the  beautiful,  are, 
I  strictly  speaking,  products  of  reflexion  on  the  spontaneous 
/  instinct ;  they  are  the  first  applications  of  it  to  life.  And 
inoreover,  the  affirmations  of  this  primary  instinct,  wrongly 
identified  with  feeling,  need  sifting  and  testing  ;  they  are 
not  all  ready  to  take  shape  as  determinations  of  the  good, 
the  true,  and  the  beautiful.  The  world  into  which  the 
Cosmic  Consciousness,  to  use  Bucke's  word,  admits  us, 
is  not  purely  a  better  world,  though  it  is  a  larger  one. 
It  is  hell  as  well  as  heaven.  This  the  mystics  who  have 
tried  to  fix  the  immediacy  of  feeling  as  the  basis  of  their 
moral  and  spiritual  life,  have  found  to  their  cost.  The 
great  problem  which  has  confronted  them  has  been  how  to 
distinguish  between  the  genuine  irruptions  of  the  Divine 
into  their  consciousness,  and  what  they  were  constrained 
to  regard  as  diabolical  imitations.  For  those  who  denied 
themselves  the  aid  of  the  discursive  intellect,  of  the  will, 
and  of  practical  tests,  there  was  no  satisfactory  solution 
of  this  problem,  and  they  were  frequently  tormented 
through  life  by  doubts  whether  their  most  intimate  spiritual 
experiences  were  not  sometimes  wiles  of  the  Evil  One  for 
their  undoing. 

In  primitive  reHgions,  even  more  than  in  the  discipline 
of  the  mystics,  deliberate  attempts  are  made  to  fix  this 
immediacy  of  rehgious  feeling,  without  analysing  or 
developing  it,  and  to  render  it  more  intense  by  various 
artificial  means,  empirically  discovered.  I  do  not  include 
prayer  among  these  means,  because  I  doubt  whether  this 
highest  of  our  privileges  can  be  resorted  to,  even  in  an 
ignorant  manner,  without  some  real  gain.  But  fasting, 
and  other  ascetical  exercises,  have  been  and  are  used  with 
the  object  of  intensifying  vague  religious  emotion,  without 
unravelling  or  transmuting  it.  The  self-induced  trance 
of  quietistic   mysticism,   procured   by  such   methods  as 


IV.]  FAITH  AS  PUKE  FEELING  69 

gazing  intently  at  a  luminous  chink  or  even  on  some  part 
of  one's  own  body  (the  navel  among  the  monks  of  Mount 
Athos,  the  tip  of  the  nose  with  some  Indian  contemplatives), 
is  one  method  of  hypnotisation.  Religious  music  and 
orgiastic  dancing  are  also  very  potent  methods  of  achieving 
this  result.  I  will  quote  part  of  Rohde's  description  of  the 
Thracian  worship  of  Dionysus.^  '  The  rite  was  performed 
on  hilltops,  in  the  darkness  of  night,  by  the  doubtful  light 
fof  torches.  Amid  the  sound  of  music,  the  clashing  of 
brazen  cymbals,  the  rolling  thunder  of  a  great  drum,  and 
the  deep  note  of  the  flute  *'  enticing  to  madness,"  the  band 
of  worshippers  danced  over  the  hillside  in  a  whirling, 
raving,  rushing  circle.  When  their  emotions  were  raised 
to  the  highest  pitch,  they  hurled  themselves  upon  the 
beast  chosen  for  sacrifice.  This  powerful  intensification 
of  feeling  had  a  religious  meaning,  in  that  only  through 
such  overstrain  and  expansion  of  his  being  did  man  feel 

I^^able  to  come  into  touch  with  the  god  and  his  attendant 
^■spirits.'  '  Emotion  carries  its  own  credentials  with  it ' ;  ^ 
and  by  such  methods  the  undifferentiated  primary  emotion 
of  Faith  may  be  stimulated  to  a  pitch  which  may  leave 
abiding  traces  on  the  mind. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  important  empirical  discoveries 
about  the  religious  emotion  which  man  has  made.  The 
result  of  employing  it  is  to  arrest  the  development  of  Faith 
at  a  very  early  stage.  This  kind  of  religion  may  be 
Intense  ;  it  may  become  the  predominant  interest  in  life  ; 
but  it  can  hardly  produce  any  of  the  proper  fruits  of  Faith  : 
it  is  an  abortive  Faith,  a  monstrosity  and  a  perversion. 
The  undifferentiated  Faith-state  was  not  given  us  to  use 
or  enjoy  in  this  way.  It  must  be  developed,  rendered 
explicit,  unravelled,  as  it  were,  through  will,  thought  an^ 
appropriate  action. 

The  result  of  deliberately  playing  upon  the  emotions  in 

1  Rohde,  Psyche,  ii.  pp.  18-20. 

•  Pratt,  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief,  p.  62. 


70  FAITH  [CH. 

the  manner  described  is  often  seen  in  terrible  reactions. 
If  the  joys  of  the  ecstatic  state  are  (as  is  said  by  some  who 
have  experienced  them)  too  great  to  be  described,  so  also 
are  the  miseries  of  '  dereliction,'  and  the  hallucinations  of 
religious  melancholy.  Every  fanatical  '  revival  *  produces 
a  crop  of  insanity.  The  normal  development  of  religion 
is  calm  and  self-collected,  though  deep  and  strong.  Re- 
ligious feeUng,  if  not  abused,  pricks  us  with  a  sense  of  our 
imperfection,  and  forces  us  to  seek,  through  thought  and 
will,  for  the  cause  of  our  disquiet  and  for  a  means  of 
satisfying  our  need. 
l'  The  normal  history  of  religious  feeling  is  summed  up  in 
\rthe  words,  Fear,  Dependence,  Love.  Assuredly  none  of 
rthe  three  is  '  pure  feeUng  '  ;  but  I  am  protesting  all  through 
these  lectures  against  separating  our  faculties  in  this  way. 
Love  is  the  crown  of  the  soul's  victory,  and  love,  though 
it  contains  intellectual  and  moral  elements,  is  primarily 
an  emotion.  Christianity  has  seemed  to  many  to  give  the 
last  word  to  the  affections  or  emotions,  by  its  exaltation 
of  love  as  the  only  gift  that  *  never  faileth  ' ;  and  certainly 
love  is  the  only  virtue  which  we  can  imagine  as  persisting 
without  much  change  in  the  eternal  world,  when  faith 
shall  have  become  sight,  hope  been  turned  into  satis- 
faction, and  knowledge  into  contemplation. 
^'''^Love  is  implicit  in  Faith  from  the  first.  As  aesthetics  is 
ya  power  of  recognising  beauty  practically  inseparable  from 
the  love  of  beauty  ;  as  ethics  is  a  power  of  recognising  the 
morally  right  practically  inseparable  from  the  love  of  right, 
so  the  aim  of  theology  is  an  intellectual  recognition  of  God 
practically  inseparable  from  the  love  of  God.  And  so 
Augustine  is  right  when  he  says  that  a  man's  spiritual  state 
may  be  best  gauged  not  by  what  lie  knows,  but  by  what  he 
loves.^ 

J  Pascal's  '  Human  things  need  only  be  known  in  order  to  be  loved,  but 
divine  things  must  first  be  loved  in  order  to  be  known,'  is  valuable,  but  needi 
safeguarding,  as  making  the  acquisition  of  dirine  knowledge  too  independent 
of  rational  thought 


FAITH  AS  PURE  FEELING  71 

But  if  Faith  thus  loses  itself  at  last  in  Love,  Love  must 
not,  like  mere  feeling,  be  immediate  at  a  level  below  dis- 
tinction and  relation.  The  religion  of  feeling  cannot  be- 
come true  till  it  has  passed  through  the  crucible  of  the  will 
and  the  intellect.  Our  problem  is  to  find  the  intellectual 
and  volitional  equivalents  of  this  vague  religion  of  feeling, 
certainly  not  to  regard  it  as  a  third  stage,  destined  to 
override  the  intellect.^ 

In  the  following  lectures  I  shall  try  to  consider  in  what 
manner,  and  under  what  limitations,  the  activities  of  the 
will  and  intellect,  brought  to  bear  upon  the  spontaneous 
Faith-state,  which  Professor  Baldwin  calls  '  reality-feeling ' 
as  opposed  to  self-conscious  belief,  may  conduct  us  towards 
a  unified  spiritual  experience,  in  which  the  contradictions 
and  divisions  which  analysis  brings  to  light  may  be  par- 
tially reconciled.  But  there  is  one  other  principle,  besides 
the  intellectual  and  practical,  which  is  of  immense  import- 
ance. This  is  the  principle  of  Authority,  the  effect  of  which 
as  a  secondary  ground  of  Faith,  determining  its  form  and 
content,  can  hardly  be  overestimated.  Rehgion  is  a  racial 
afiFair,  and  authority  is  the  principle  of  continuity,  the 
memory  of  the  race.  I  think,  therefore,  that  a  discussion 
of  authority  in  relation  to  Faith  should  take  precedence 
even  of  the  practical  and  intellectual  grounds  of  behef. 
*  As  {e.g.)  Pratt  does  in  his  Psychology  0/ Religious  Bdi^. 


FAITH  [cH. 


CHAPTER    V 

;         AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH 

,'To  class  Authority  as  a  secondary  ground  of  Faith  is  »- 
proceeding  which  needs  some  defence.  For  it  is  certain  that 
in  individual  experience  Authority  is  the  earUest  ground 
of  behef .  We  are  none  of  us  born  with  a  behef  in  God ; 
but  we  are  all  bom  with  a  tendency  to  believe  what  we 
are  told.  A  child  can  be  made  to  believe  almost  anything. 
He  does  not  believe  because  he  wishes  to  beheve,  or 
because  the  things  presented  to  him  for  acceptance  appear 
to  him  to  be  useful  or  beautiful  or  desirable  in  any  way. 
He  is  quite  as  ready  to  believe  in  ghosts  and  hobgoblins  as 
in  angels  and  good  fairies.  As  he  began  to  speak  by  parrot- 
talk,  so  he  begins  to  think  by  accepting  facts  without 
criticising  them,  and  assumes  that  whatever  he  hears  and 
understands  has  a  place  in  the  world  of  reality.  It  is  only 
after  sad  experience  of  the  deceitfulness  of  appearances 
that  he  unlearns  his  first  confidence,  and  begins  to  doubt 
and  question  and  disbelieve. 

This  natural  tendency  to  believe  what  we  are  told 
remains  with  us,  though  more  or  less  impaired  by  experi- 
ence, through  life.  Some  may  protest  that  no  one  except 
a  young  child  believes  anything  merely  because  he  is  told, 
without  any  thought  of  the  trustworthiness  of  the  author- 
ity ;  but  I  am  convinced  that  this  is  a  mistake.  A  great 
many  grown  persons  will  accept  almost  any  statements 
put  before  them  (not  on  all  subjects,  of  course,  but  on  some 
subjects)  from  pure  inertia,  because  it  is  easier  for  them  to 
believe  than  to  disbefieve.     Some  popular  superstitions, 


T.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  73 

which  show  such  astonishing  vitaHty,  must  be  trans- 
mitted and  accepted  in  this  lazy  fashion.  Such  notions 
as  that  it  is  unlucky  to  walk  under  a  ladder,  or  to  be 
married  in  May,  could  not  survive  a  moment's  thought 
about  the  value  of  the  evidence  in  their  favour.  They 
are  simply  taken  at  their  face  value,  with  no  questions 
asked. 

If  pure  credulity  is  an  actual  cause  of  belief,  even  in 
cases  where  disproof  is  possible  and  easy,  we  cannot  be 
surprised  that  it  is  largely  instrumental  in  forming  beliefs 
about  the  unseen  world,  where  no  contradiction  from 
experience  is  possible.  Among  savages,  myths  about  gods 
and  spirits  are  handed  down  from  father  to  son,  and 
believed  implicitly.  They  become  part  of  the  mental 
capital  of  the  tribe  or  nation,  and  any  attempt  to  damage 
their  credit  is  visited  with  great  indignation.  This  is  quite 
natural.  When  an  *  old  master '  has  been  in  a  family  for 
generations,  the  owner  is  not  likely  to  be  grateful  for  being 
told  that  it  is  a  sham.  Or  if  he  has  acquired  it  himself 
without  asking  questions,  and  has  frequently  spoken  of  it 
as  undoubtedly  genuine,  he  will  be  at  least  equally  un- 
willing to  admit  that  he  has  been  deceived.  As  a  general 
rule,  we  say  a  thing  for  the  first  time  because  we  have  heard 
some  one  else  say  it,  and  stick  to  it  because  we  have  said 
it  ourselves. 

It  follows  that  the  diffusion  and  persistence  of  a  belief 
is  not  always  a  presumption  in  favour  of  its  truth.  Many 
beliefs,  which  are  purely  silly  and  destitute  of  any  founda- 
tion, have  been  kept  alive  by  mere  credulity,  even  in 
Europe,  for  thousands  of  years.  When  a  superstition  once 
establishes  itself,  it  does  not  become  any  more  respectable 
by  growing  old.  Its  antiquity  gives  it  a  sort  of  prestige 
which  helps  to  keep  it  alive,  but  adds  nothing  to  its  weight. 
For  instance,  all  housemaids  everywhere  believe  that  you 
can  make  a  fire  burn  by  tilting  a  poker  against  the  bars. 
I  dare  say  this  curious  manoeuvre  was  originally  an  attempt 


74  FAITH  [cii. 

to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  so  conjure  the  fire  to 
burn  ;  but  for  centuries  it  has  been  a  purely  irrational 
superstition.  Or  take  the  cock-and-lion  story,  solemnly 
told  by  Aristotle — that  the  lion  is  afraid  of  the  cock.  This 
superstition  lasted  till  Cuvier  at  last  thought  of  putting  a 
cock  into  a  lion's  cage,  with  results  fatal  to  the  cock.  Intel- 
lectual indolence  has  perpetuated  a  great  many  bits  of 
antiquated  science.  The  history  of  popular  quack  remedies 
supplies  a  mass  of  instances  of  a  highly  instructive  kind  ; 
for  the  same  mental  attitude  which  leads  uneducated 
people  to  resort  to  quacks  when  they  are  ill  makes  them 
victims  of  religious  imposture  when  they  are  in  trouble 
about  their  souls. 

Excessive  reverence  for  tradition,  deference  to  the 
opinions  of  our  forefathers,  *  who  had  more  wit  and  wisdom 
than  we,'  must  be  distinguished  from  mere  credulity.  This 
reverence  for  the  supposed  wisdom  of  the  past,  which  we 
find  everywhere  in  primitive  societies,  must  have  been  very 
useful  in  the  early  stages  of  civilisation,  when  the  difficulty 
of  preserving  the  hardly-won  gains  of  humanity  was  far 
greater  than  at  present.  The  tendency  to  put  the  golden 
age  in  the  past  may  have  been  caused  partly  by  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  real  sacrifices  which  civilisation  entails. 
The  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  as  I  have  said  elsewhere,^ 
always  expels  us  from  some  paradise  or  other,  even  if  it 
be  only  the  paradise  of  fools.  And  when  the  art  of  writing 
was  discovered,  a  superstitious  veneration  for  the  written 
word  was  universal,  and  so  persistent  that  I  do  not  think 
it  is  extinct  yet.  If  the  words  of  wisdom  were  enshrined 
in  verse,  that  made  the  glamour  even  more  potent.  The 
old  Greek  sentiment  about  the  inspiration  of  poets  sur- 
vived to  the  end  of  the  classical  period.  '  To  the  poets 
sometimes,'  says  Dion  Chrysostom, — '  I  mean  the  very 
ancient  poets — there  came  a  brief  utterance  from  the 
Muses,  a  kind  of  inspiration  of  the  divine  nature  and  truth, 
i  Truth  and  Falsehood  in  Religion,  p.  158. 


v.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  75 

like  a  flash  of  light  from  an  unseen  fire.'  ^  It  was  thus 
that  the  belief  in  an  infallible  literature  grew  up,  of  which 
I  must  say  more  in  a  later  lecture.  To-day  my  subject  is 
Authority  in  general,  its  meaning  and  significance  for 
Faith.  And  I  have  to  Justify  my  classification  of  it  as  a 
secondary  ground  of  behef . 

Authority  is  defined  by  Professor  Gwatkin  ^  as  '  all 
weight  allowed  to  the  behefs  of  persons  or  the  teachings  of 
institutions  beyond  their  reasonable  value  as  personal 
testimony.'  The  phrase  '  reasonable  value  '  raises  at  once 
the  question  as  to  the  relation  of  authority  to  reason. 
'  Reason '  is  one  of  those  ambiguous  words  which  have 
been  the  cause  of  endless  controversies,  because  the  com- 
batants have  not  been  careful  enough  to  define  their  terms. 
It  is  a  pity,  I  think,  that  we  have  not  accepted  Coleridge's 
distinction  between  reason  and  understanding,  correspon- 
ding to  the  German  words  Vernunft  and  Verstand,  and 
(less  exactly)  to  the  Greek  vovs  and  Stdvota  as  used  by 
Platonists.  '  Reason  '  would  then  be  used  for  a  philosophy 
of  life  based  on  full  experience,  a  synthesis  doing  Justice  to 
the  claims  of  the  moral  and  aesthetic  consciousness,  while 
'  understanding '  would  be  reserved  for  logical  reasoning 
of  a  more  abstract  kind.  We  should  then  have  been 
spared  such  confused  arguments  as  are  found,  for  example, 
in  Mr.  Balfour's  Foundations  of  Belief  (in  which,  as  Leslie 
Stephen  said,  the  foundations  are  ingeniously  supported 
by  the  superstructure),  or  Mr.  Kidd's  Social  Evolution. 

It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  we  are  right  in  looking 
for  the  '  Foundations  of  Belief.'  The  metaphor  may  be 
a  misleading  one.  Some  things  have  no  foundations.  An 
organism,  for  instance,  has  no  foundations.  Perhaps 
rational  Faith  may  prove  to  be  part  of  the  life  of  the 
universe,  in  which  case  we  need  not  look  for  its  foundations 
outside  of  itself.     Perhaps  there  is  no  '  elephant '  to  hold 

i  Dion  Chrysostom,  Orat.  36,  vol.  ii.  p.  59;  Hatch,  Hibbert  Lectv/res,  p.  61. 
2  Gwatkin,  The  Knowledge  of  Ood,  vol.  i.  p.  3. 


76  FAITH  [CH. 

up  the  world  of  ideas,  and  no  '  tortoise '  to  support  the 
elephant.^ 

Mr.  Kidd  is  anxious  to  prove  that  there  is  *  no  rational 
sanction  for  progress,'  and  he  chooses  to  regard  '  reason ' 
as  a  shortsighted,  selfish  faculty,  which  has  nothing  to  do 
with  any  existence  but  the  present,  which,  it  insists,  it  is 
our  duty  to  ourselves  to  make  the  most  of.^  Professor 
Wallace,  usually  the  most  courteous  of  critics,  is  for  once 
goaded  into  using  a  sharp  expression.  '  It  is  simply 
impossible  to  allow  any  one  thus  to  play  the  fool  with 
language.'  ^    Similarly  for  Mr.  Balfour,  authority  is  called 

*  the  rival  and  opponent  of  reason.'  Authority  '  stands 
for  that  group  of  non-rational  causes,  moral,  social,  and 
educational,  which  produces  its  results  by  psychic  processes 
other  than  reasoning.'  *  To  authority,  he  considers,  we 
owe  the  order  and  stability  of  the  moral  world  ;  by  it  the 
operations  of  reason  are  '  coerced  to  a  fore-ordained  issue  '  ; 
it  generates  '  psychological  climates  '  (like  the  '  atmosphere ' 
of  Church  schools,  I  suppose,  about  which  we  heard  so 
much  two  years  ago),  that  is,  habits  of  belief  which  reason 
has  no  power  to  influence.  Indeed,  *  it  is  from  authority 
that  reason  itself  draws  its  most  important  premises.'  *  To 
authority,  in  the  main,  we  owe,  not  religion  only,  but  ethics 
and  politics.'  '  Reasoning  is  a  force  most  apt  to  divide 
and  disintegrate.' 

This  is  a  return  to  a  long  discredited  method  of  apolo- 
getics.    In  the  Middle  Ages  John  of  Salisbury  wrote  : 

*  As  both  the  senses  and  human  reason  frequently  go 
astray,  God  has  laid  in  Faith  the  first  foundation  for  the 
knowledge  of  truth.'  So  Bayle,  the  French  Encyclopaedist, 
says,  not  very  sincerely,  perhaps  :  '  Human  reason  is  a 
principle  of  destruction,  not  of  construction  ;  it  is  capable 
solely  of  raising  questions,  and  of  doubling  about  to  make 

1  Cf.  Professor  H.  Jones  in  nvbhert  Journal  (Jan.  1906),  p.  301. 

>  Kidd,  Social  Evolution,  p.  73. 

»  W.  Wallace,  Lectures  and  Essays,  p.  104. 

♦  Balfour,  Foundations  of  Belief,  p.  219. 


v.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  77 

a  controversy  endless.  The  best  use  that  can  be  made  of 
philosophy  is  to  acknowledge  that  it  can  only  lead  us 
astray,  and  that  we  must  seek  another  guide,  which  is  the 
light  of  revelation.'  ^ 

I  shall  have  occasion  to  show  that  religious  belief  is 
largely  affected  by  '  psychic  processes  other  than  reason- 
ing.' But  why  these  should  be  grouped  together  under 
the  name  '  authority,'  I  cannot  imagine.  We  believe,  as 
I  shall  show,  partly  on  practical  grounds,  because  we  find 
that  a  certain  mental  attitude  towards  the  unseen  and 
unknown  works,  helps  us  to  live  as  we  wish  to  live,  and 
since  we  believe  that  the  world  is  all  of  one  piece,  it  is 
reasonable  to  assume  that  what  is  true  for  us  is  true  for 
all ;  and  partly  also  (in  many  cases)  on  aesthetic  grounds, 
since  order  and  beauty  seem  to  be  part  of  the  Creator's 
design,  and  ends  in  themselves. 

These  may  be  called  non-rational  grounds  of  belief 
(using  rational  in  the  lower  sense),  because  reason  (in  the 
higher  sense)  has  to  find  room  for  them,  and  cannot  pro- 
nounce them  invalid.  Irrational  they  are  not.  And  they 
have  nothing,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  to  do  with  authority. 
The  passage  about  '  coercing  the  operations  of  reason  to  a 
fore-ordained  issue '  seem^  to  be  a  dignified  phrase  for  the 
operation  which  schoolboys  call  '  fudging '  their  sums. 
Unless  the  world  is  purely  irrational,  such  a  manoeuvre  is 
a  wilful  deception  practised  at  our  own  expense  or  at  that 
of  others.  There  is  nothing  more  harmful  to  the  cause  of 
truth  than  a  lip-service  to  logic  or  science,  when  we  have 
predetermined  in  our  own  minds  the  conclusion  at  which 
we  mean  to  arrive.  If  we  have  decided  to  accept  our 
opinions  at  second-hand,  it  is  most  candid  to  say  so,  and 
abstain  from  arguments  which  have  nothing  to  do  with  our 
position. 

If  by  all  this  opposition  of  authority  and  reason  it  is 
simply  meant  that  there  are  some  things  which  we  dis- 
1  Quoted  by  Rickaby,  First  Principles,  p.  191. 


78  FAITH  [cH. 

cover  for  ourselves,  and  other  things  which  we  accept 
because  we  have  every  reason  to  beUeve  that  our  inform- 
ants are  trustworthy,  or  because  we  have  not  the  leisure  or 
ability  to  test  them  for  ourselves,  that  is  a  very  obvious 
truism.  I  accept  the  fact  that  Buenos  Ayres  is  the  capital 
of  the  Argentine  Republic  because  the  evidence  for  the 
statement  seems  to  me  sufficient,  because  there  is  nothing 
intrinsically  improbable  in  it,  because  I  can  think  of  no 
reason  why  there  should  be  a  conspiracy  to  deceive  me  on 
such  a  point,  and  because  there  is  no  testimony  on  the 
other  side.  I  accept  without  question  anything  that  a 
distinguished  mathematician  tells  me  about  the  higher 
mathematics  because  I  am  incapable  of  following  his 
calculations,  and  because  I  have  generally  found  mathe- 
maticians honourable  men.  But  acceptances  of  this  kind 
are  really  intellectual  processes.  I  have  my  reasons  for 
believing,  or  disbeUeving,  in  each  case.  This  is,  as  I  have 
said,  psychologically  quite  different  from  bare  credulity, 
which  is  a  thoughtless  condition. 

Once  more,  I  may  accept  certain  traditions,  principles, 
and  maxims  as  embodying  the  stored  wisdom  of  the  race, 
the  racial  instinct.  But  this,  I  contend,  is  again  accept- 
ance on  intellectual  grounds.  My  studies  of  sociology  and 
biology,  we  will  suppose,  have  led  me  to  attach  a  great 
importance  to  these  traditions,  as  embodying  a  deeper 
practical  wisdom  than  mankind  has  been  able  to  make 
explicit  and  justify  by  argument,  or,  at  any  rate,  deeper 
than  I  could  hope  to  arrive  at  by  my  own  wisdom  and 
experience  ;  and  therefore  I  submit  to  the  authority  of  the 
race  as  exercised  in  these  social  or  religious  traditions.  This 
is  a  very  wise  and  respectable  line  to  take,  but  it  is  purely 
intellectual  and  reasonable,  and  to  class  it  as  non-rational 
betrays  a  mere  confusion  of  thought. 

Nor  is  there  anything  non-rational  in  the  respect  and 
homage  which  we  pay  to  men  of  deep  spiritual  insight. 
*  Our  weak  Faith  may  at  times   be   permitted  to   look 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  79 

through  the  eyes  of  some  strong  soul,  and  may  thereby 
gain  a  sense  of  the  certainty  of  spiritual  things  which  before 
we  had  not,  and  which  we  lose  when  we  return  within 
ourselves.'  ^  We  do  not  pay  this  deference  unless  we  have 
reason  to  think  that  our  guide  has  indeed  '  a  strong  soul ' ; 
and  this  is  why  personal  influence  is  so  potent  in  religion. 
Our  reason  tells  us  that  much  religious  eloquence  is  mere 
professional  advocacy  ;  we  do  not  trust  our  guide  until  we 
feel  that  we  know  him. 

But  now  suppose  that  the  tradition  relates  to  some  fact 
in  the  past  or  future,  for  which  the  personal  testimony  of 
my  teacher  is  obviously  an  insufficient  warrant,  and  which 
is  not  recommended  to  me  by  any  of  the  considerations 
just  mentioned.  Is  it  unreasonable  for  me  to  believe  it  ? 
The  answer  is  No,  if  I  believe  that  the  doctrine  in  question 
was  supematurally  imparted,  or  that  it  is  supernaturally 
guaranteed. 

If  I  accept  a  theological  proposition  as  supernaturally 
revealed,  then  I  am  really  believing  on  authority — Divine, 
authority^  The  question  is,  whether  Divine  authority  is 
or  can  be  independent  of  what  we  have  called  the  primary, 
ground  of  Faith,_the^igner,  personal  attraction  towards  the 
good,  the  true,  and  the  beautiful. 

A  purely  external  revelation  of  truths,  which  are  not 
related  in  any  way  to  our  own  consciousness,  would  of 
course  be  impossible.  You  cannot  teach  a  blind  man  by 
showing  him  pictures,  nor  a  deaf  man  by  talking  to  him, 
because  there  is  no  communication  with  him  through  the 
sense  which  he  has  lost.  And  we  may  say  reverently  that 
God  could  make  no  revelation  in  such  a  way  to  man,  with- 
out breaking  the  laws  under  which  He  governs  the  universe. 
Revelation  must  be  either  of  truths  which  are  at  present 
unknown  to  us,  but  which  when  imparted  to  us  are  intel- 
ligible, and  carry  conviction  with  them  by  their  agreement 
with  the  rest  of  our  experience  ;   or  else,  there  must  be  an 

1  Stanton,  The  Place  of  Authority  in  I^diyioua  Beli^,  p.  32. 


80  FAITH  [CH. 

inward  revelation,  parallel  to  the  outward,  and  assuring 
us  of  its  trustworthiness. 

Now  any  revelation  of  facts  which,  though  they  are 
within  our  com^.rehension,  are  unverifiable,  must  be  guaran- 
teed in  some  way.  This  obviously  applies  to  all  historical 
facts  which  are  presented  to  us  as  having  a  significance 
for  Faith.  No  inner  light  can  re-create  the  past.  Lessing, 
like  many  others  since,  found  this  difficulty  insurmoimtable. 
*  Contingent  truths  of  history,'  he  said,  *  can  never  be  made 
the  proof  of  necessary  truths  of  reason.  That  is  the  ugly 
ditch  which  I  cannot  get  over,  though  I  have  often  and 
earnestly  attempted  the  leap.'  We  are  not,  however, 
called  upon  to  attempt  this  salto  mortale.  It  is  enough  if 
the  historical  facts  fall  naturally  into  their  place  in  the 
scheme  of  the  world  as  it  reveals  itself  to  Faith. 

Now,  what  kinds  of  guarantee  are  possible,  when  a 
prophet  comes  to  me,  saying,  '  Thus  saith  the  Lord '  ? 
What  credentials  is  it  possible  for  him  to  produce  ? 

The  most  primitive  kind  of  prophet  seems  generally  to 
say  :  *  God  is  the  Lord  of  nature,  and  makes  its  laws  bend 
to  His  will.  Through  His  power,  I  will  do  the  same  ;  and 
then  you  will  know  that  He  has  sent  me.  I  will  call  down 
rain  by  my  incantations,  or  I  will  smite  an  unbeliever  with 
grievous  sickness.'  But  if  God  does  not  act  in  this  way, 
if  He  does  not  suspend  or  interfere  with  the  operations  of 
nature  by  way  of  giving  signs  to  men,  this  proof  is  wholly 
worthless.  And  it  remauis  wholly  worthless  even  if  rain 
does  follow  the  prophet's  prayer,  and  if  the  sceptic  goes 
home  sick  unto  death. 

Or  the  prophet  may  seek  to  establish  his  credit  by  pre- 
dicting the  future.  Maeterlinck  has  argued  that  it  is  one 
of  the  most  mysterious  things  about  human  nature  that 
we  cannot  predict  the  future — that,  while  the  past  is  partly 
open  to  us,  the  future  is  a  closed  book.  No  doubt  it  is 
strange,  but  such  do  seem  to  be  the  limitations  of  our 
nature ;   and  there  is  no  evidence  at  all  convincing  to  the 


v.]  AU.THORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  81 

modem  mind  that  those  who  are  entrusted  with  a  message 
by  God  have  any  supernatural  powers  of  foretelling  future 
events.  The  old  Jewish  prophets  no  doubt  had  a  very 
clear  insight  into  the  issues  of  national  policy.  They  saw 
that  Egypt  was  likely  to  prove  a  broken  reed,  and  that  the 
cruel  and  barbarous  empire  of  Assyria  could  not  long 
terrorise  the  continent  of  Asia.  But  it  is  an  inexcusable 
obscuring  of  issues  to  confound  this  kind  of  penetration 
with  the  old  idea  of  prophecy,  which  made  it  possible  to 
accept  a  verse  in  which  Cyrus  is  mentioned  by  name,  as 
having  been  written  generations  before  the  birth  of  that 
prince. 

The  famous  arguments  from  miracles  and  prophecy  are 
in  principle  condemned  by  our  Lord,  whose  warnings  against 
seeking  after  a  sign  have  been  preserved  by  the  candour 
of  His  biographers,  though  they  themselves  attached  great 
value  to  such  evidence.  They  are  no  longer  arguments 
for  us. 

It  remains  that  the  prophet  should  commend  his 
message  to  us  by  awaking  a  response  in  our  own  hearts. 
This  is  in  reality  the  only  way  in  which  a  revelation  is  or 
can  be  made  to  us.  The  revelation  comes  to  us  with 
authority  from  outside,  as  the  voice  of  God.  The  true 
prophet  at  any  rate  believes  sincerely  that  God  is  speak- 
ing through  his  mouth  ;  and  those  who  hear  him  are 
constrained  to  believe  it  too.  Our  hearts  leap  out  to 
meet  his  words  ;  we  recognise  that  this  is  what  we  wanted  ; 
that  here  is  the  truth  which  we  could  not  find  for  ourselves, 
the  good  news  which  we  should  not  have  dared  to  believe. 
We  recognise  in  the  prophet  himself  a  man  of  God.  We 
trust  him  instinctively  ;  when  he  speaks  to  us  about  the 
unseen  world,  we  feel  that  he  knows  what  he  is  speaking 
about,  that  he  '  has  been  there '  himself.  When  we  read  the 
words  of  Jesus  Himself,  our  hearts  tell  us  that  even  this 
language  is  inadequate. 

This  will  show  why  I  regard  prophetical  authority  as\ 


88.  FAITH  Urn. 

f 

a  secondary  ground  of  Faith.     It  is  not  independent  of 

the  primary  ground,  the  inward  tribunal  which  accepts  or 
rejects  it.  It  is  this  primary  ground  which  alone  makes 
belief  on  authority  a  religious  act.  Without  it,  belief  in 
authority  is  inert  opinion,  or  lazy  acquiescence,  or  blind 
partisanship  ;  and  none  of  these  things  has  anything  to 
do  with  Faith. 

Revelation  is  wholly  within  the  sphere  of  religion. 
Nothing  can  be  revealed  to  an  irreligious  mind,  and  nothing 
can  be  revealed  to  the  religious  mind  that  falls  outside 
the  sphere  of  religious  truth.  Neither  can  the  natural 
man  discern  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  nor  can  the 
spiritual  man  claim  the  inspiration  or  guarantee  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  for  beliefs  which  belong  to  the  scope  of 
the  natural  man. 

This,  however,  is  a  restriction  of  the  province  of  authority 
which  has  not  been  generally  accepted  in  practice. 
Authority,  by  those  who  appeal  to  it,  is  usually  treated 
as  the  final  court  of  appeal.  Belief  on  authority,  thus 
understood,  has  a  psychological  affinity  to  intuitivism, 
and  is  in  fact  often  held  in  conjunction  with  it.  The 
mystic  who  refuses  to  analyse  or  criticise  his  intuitions  is 
often  baffled  by  the  emptiness  or  formlessness  of  his 
religious  conceptions,  and  so  tends  to  fall  back  upon  the 
clearly  defined  images  or  symbols  which  his  church  pro- 
vides. He  accepts  these  on  authority,  since  he  is  not 
interested  in  the  proof  of  them,  and  would  even  value 
them  less  if  they  were  based  on  ordinary  evidence. 
Whether  consciously  or  not,  he  only  needs  them  as  helps 
to  his  imagination.  But  they  may  easily  become  so 
indispensable  to  him  that  he  will  be  as  stiff  a  dogmatist 
as  if  his  Faith  really  rested  on  external  authority  ;  and  he 
will  often  protest  vehemently  that  external  authority, 
in  the  form  of  supernaturally  revealed  doctrines,  is  in 
truth  the  basis  of  his  Faith,  which  would  fall  in  ruins  if 
this  support  were  withdrawn.    Just  because  the  dogmas 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  83 

of  his  church  are  accepted  uncritically,  as  outside  dis- 
cussion, they  are  capable  of  being  used  as  external  supports 
of  a  Faith  which  in  reality  sprang  up  independently  of 
them,  and  only  requires  them  to  give  form  and  colour  to 
its  vague  intuitions.  The  typical  dogmatist  is  a  confused 
half -mystic,  whose  intuitive  Faith  is  neither  strong  enough 
nor  clear  enough  to  bring  him  strength  or  comfort.  He 
accordingly  fortifies  himself  by  calhng  in  the  help  of  an 
external  authority,  whose  credentials  he  would  think  it 
impious  to  investigate,  and  willingly  accepts  its  guidance 
whenever  the  inner  light  bums  dim. 

This  is  the  most  rudimentary  and  crudest  form  of 
working  Faith  ;  since  we  have  found  that  reliance  upon 
undifferentiated  feeling  does  not  provide  a  working  Faith 
at  all.  It  is  the  working  Faith  of  the  simple  orthodox 
beUever ;  and  however  unsound  it  must  appear  to  the 
philosopher,  it  works  fairly  well  in  practice.  It  is  a 
wholesome  safeguard  against  rash  individualism  ;  since 
the  doctrines  which  are  supposed  to  be  externally  revealed 
by  God  are  in  truth  supported,  in  part  at  least,  by  the 
legitimate  authority  of  the  collective  religious  conscious- 
ness, the  value  of  which  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 
If  a  '  universal  Church '  really  existed,  and  if  its  Judg- 
ments were  articulately  represented  by  its  official  spokes- 
men, it  would  be  rash  indeed  for  an  individual  to  dis- 
regard its  authority.  Even  under  the  present  state  of 
things,  '  orthodoxy '  provides  a  well-balanced  view  of 
hfe,  and  a  safe  guide  in  ordinary  cases.  But  it  remains 
true  that  the  simple  believer  places  the  seat  of  authority 
wrongly,  and  allows  authority  to  throw  her  shield  over 
various  beliefs  relating  to  particular  events,  some  of 
which  may  be  untrue,  while  others  have  no  religious 
significance.  This  kind  of  belief  on  authority,  therefore, 
may  be  a  source  of  danger  to  Faith,  by  loading  it  with 
burdens  which  it  is  unable  to  bear. 

Those  who  lean  heavily  on  authority  soon  discover 


84  FAITH  [cH. 

if  they  allow  themselves  to  think  seriously,  that  it  pro- 
vides no  solution  of  the  enigmas  of  Faith.  Just  as,  in 
considering  the  hypothesis  of  Faith  as  immediate  per- 
ception of  divine  truth,  we  found  that  the  devout  mystic 
is  haunted  by  nightmares,  contrefacons  diaboliques  of 
his  most  precious  visions,  which  he  has  denied  himself 
the  means  of  testing,  and  cannot  possibly  test  without 
being  false  to  his  principle  that  divine  truth  is  communi- 
cated immediately;  so  the  believer  on  authority  is  dismayed 
to  find  that  authority  is  not  all  of  one  mind.^  Not  only 
are  his  senses  confused  by  the  clamour  of  rival  teachers, 
all  equally  confident  that  their  prophecy  is  the  true 
word  of  the  God  of  truth,  but  his  intellect,  conscience,  and 
feelings  are  touched  on  different  sides  by  appeals  which 
are  sharply  antagonistic  to  each  other.  Unless  he 
shuts  his  ears  tight  to  all  advocates  except  one  (a  very 
common  but  rather  undignified  way  of  deciding  a  case 
to  one's  own  satisfaction),  he  will  find  that  the  rival 
authorities  give  him  no  peace,  and  that  he  must  somehow 
decide  among  them,  weighing  his  authorities  against  each 
other,  and  thereby  abandoning  the  attitude  of  unques- 
tioning submission.  Now  these  rival  claims  cannot  be 
settled  offhand,  by  an  intuitive  method  ;  we  cannot  go 
back  for  external  authority  to  pure  mystical  experience, 
which  answers  no  questions  about  particulars.  It  is 
thus  that  we  are  driven  to  admit  the  necessity  of  those 
other  secondary  grounds  which  will  form  the  subject  of 
my  later  lectures — the  practical  principle,  the  intellectual 
principle,  and  the  aesthetic  principle.  Without  them 
we  cannot  say  what  kind  of  facts  can  be  guaranteed  by 
authority,  and  which  voices  it  is  safe  to  trust. 

I  am  trying  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion  as  to  what  Faith 
ought  to  be  and  may  be,  not  as  to  what  in  the  majority 
of  cases  it  actually  is.     I   have   already  said   that   the 

1  Alanus  of  Lille  (thirteenth  century)  said  wittily:  'Auctoritas  cereum 
liabet  nasum  ;  id  est,  in  diversum  potest  flecti  sensum.' 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  85 

great  mass  of  religious  people  stop  short  at  this  second 
stage,  which  the  medieval  Church  called  fides  impUcita, 
and  which  the  German  reformers  called  *  charcoal-burner's 
faith.'  In  the  case  of  these  simple  believers  the  contents 
of  their  creeds — nearly  the  whole  concrete  body  of  their 
beliefs — are  determined  by  pure  accident.  The  authority 
to  which  they  pin  their  Faith  is  that  under  which  they 
were  brought  up.  It  matters  little  that  a  Protestant  may 
have  a  mind  naturaliter  Catholica ;  he  will  rarely  change 
his  profession.  Somehow  or  other,  his  religious  instincts 
will  find  expression  in  the  church  or  denomination  to 
which  he  belongs.  If  he  has  been  brought  up  as  a  Catholic, 
he  will  find  grace  and  help  in  the  Sacraments  ;  if  as  a 
Methodist,  he  will  expect  and  generally  experience  the 
crisis  which  is  known  in  those  circles  as  sudden  conversion, 
and  which  is  supposed  to  occur  usually  between  the  ages 
of  fifteen  and  twenty-one.  The  means  of  grace  suggested 
to  men  and  women  by  their  teachers  may  not  be,  and  in 
fact  are  not,  equally  wholesome  and  good  in  all  cases  ; 
there  may  be,  and  in  fact  is,  spiritual  loss  in  belonging  to  a 
religious  body  whose  tenets  are  meagre,  defective,  and  out 
of  correspondence  with  some  of  the  ingredients  of  a  rich 
spiritual  nature.  But  when  the  driving  force,  the  religious 
instinct,  is  strong,  it  is  able  to  stretch  inadequate  dogmatic 
theories  to  a  very  considerable  extent.  They  become 
merely  pegs  on  which  the  believer  hangs  his  best  thoughts. 
Clement  of  Alexandria  called  Faith  (and  it  was  precisely 
this  common  kind  of  religious  belief — the  belief  of  the 
average  church-goer — which  was  in  his  mind),' compendious 
knowledge '  {o-vvto/xos  yvwo-is).  It  is  a  kind  of  short  cut  to 
divine  knowledge,  for  those  who  have  not  yet  had  enough 
spiritual  experience,  or  who  have  not  the  leisure,  or  the 
intellectual  ability,  to  '  beat  out  the  music '  of  their  Faith 
for  themselves.  It  is  a  working  principle  for  all  (Clement  ^^ 
w*ould  say)  until  they  have  attained  to  philosophical  ^ 
truth.     This   is   obviously   true.     The  average  Christian 


86  FAITH  [CH. 

possesses,  in  the  tenets  of  his  Church,  a  much  richer  Faith 
than  he  could  have  found  for  himself,  a  much  more  com- 
plete scheme  of  beliefs  than  individually  he  has  any  right 
to  call  his  own.  It  is  not  possible  for  him  to  suspend  his 
judgment  until  he  has  balanced  the  claims  of  rival 
authorities.  He  feels  that  his  wisest  course  is  to  admit 
and  accept  the  claims  of  the  authority  under  which  he 
finds  himself,  to  be  a  divine  revelation,  and  to  make  this 
the  mould,  as  it  were,  into  which  he  can  pour  the  treasures 
of  his  religious  experience.  The  treasure  is  in  earthen 
vessels,  no  doubt,  and  he  is  very  helpless  if  called  upon 
to  give  a  reason  for  the  Faith  that  is  in  him  ;  but  he  has 
a  receptacle  for  his  religious  emotions,  a  rule  of  belief, 
and  a  rule  of  life. 

I  have  now  perhaps  shown  sufficiently  the  partial 
justification,  and  the  necessary  limitations,  of  that  kind 
of  Faith  which  passively  accepts  the  body  of  orthodox 
beliefs,  as  a  man  has  learnt  orthodoxy  at  school,  or  at  his 
mother's  knee.  In  my  next  lectures  I  must  consider  the 
chief  historical  forms  which  the  beUef  in  authority  has 
taken. 


vl]  authority  as  a  GEOUND  of  faith  87 


p 


CHAPTER    VI 

AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF   FMTIL— continued 


Authority  in  religion,  as  I  showed  in  my  last  lecture, 
means  Divine  authority ;  and  to  rest  one's  Faith  on 
Authority  means  to  act  on  the  belief  that  information  about 
divine  things  has  been  communicated  to  mankind,  immedi- 
ately and  unmistakably.  I  have  shown  that  this  belief 
is  held  by  most  religious  people,  and  that  they  for  the 
most  part  accept  unexamined,  and  maintain  through  life, 
the  forms  of  Faith  which  were  first  presented  to  them, 
refusing  even  to  contemplate  any  change.  I  have  ad- 
mitted the  necessity  of  this  naive,  childlike  Faith ;  but 
I  have  shown  that  its  forms  are  determined  by  the 
accidents  of  early  surroundings,  and  that  by  excluding 
self-criticism  it  is  condemned  to  stationariness  in  the 
midst  of  a  changing  world. 

In  this  lecture  and  the  next  I  wish  to  consider  the 
historical  forms  which  the  belief  in  authority  has 
taken. 

The  chief  of  these  are  the  theories  of  the  InfalHble 
Church,  and  of  the  Infallible  Book.  But  there  is  another 
form  of  supernatural  authority,  which  is  historically  prior 
to  these,  and  which  even  in  the  history  of  the  Christian 
Church  comes  before  them.  I  mean  belief  in  the  super- 
natural inspiration  of  individual  men,  prophets,  seers, 
visionaries,  and  the  like.  I  have  already  mentioned  this 
as  the  most  typical  form  of  religious  authority  properly 
so  called. 

The  prophet  conceives  himself  to  be  the  mouthpiece  of 


88  FAITH  [CH. 

God,  and  his  utterances  as  prophet  are  held  to  convey 
du-ect  information  about  the  will  and  purposes  of  the 
Almighty.  This  is  a  case  of  belief  on  authority,  in  the 
true  sense.  It  differs  from  the  intuitivism  which  we 
discussed  the  other  day,  in  that  the  prophet  regards  his 
message  as  something  special  and  miraculous.  He  is 
merely  the  vehicle,  not  the  organ  of  the  revelation.  Other 
men  accept  his  utterances  as  coming  straight  from  God. 
They  have  lost  nothing,  it  is  thought,  by  passing  through 
a  transparent  medium. 

In  the  New  Testament  this  individual  inspiration  is 
spoken  of  as  being  '  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost.'  The 
religious  instinct,  which  is  the  foundation  of  true  Faith, 
was  justly  traced  to  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
God.  But  there  is  a  right  and  a  wrong  view  of  individual 
inspiration.  In  St.  Paul,  the  action  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
is  looked  for  in  all  that  goes  to  make  up  character  in  its 
widest  sense,  and  it  appears  in  all  religious  experience. 
The  Holy  Ghost  is  the  guide  of  prayer,  the  illuminator 
of  the  intellect,  the  kindler  of  love,  the  inspirer  of  every 
noble  deed  and  work.  But  the  operation  of  this  Spirit  is 
not  wholly  miraculous,  wholly  foreign  to  their  own  true 
nature.  It  is,  in  truth,  their  own  best  nature.  *  God  in 
them  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  best  that  they  have  it  in 
them  to  become.  The  higher  nature  begotten  in  them  is 
the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit,  with  promise  of  ever  richer 
fruition.  The  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered,  with 
which  the  Spirit  comes  in  on  our  behalf,  are  identical  with 
the  groanings  which  we  ourselves  utt^r  in  the  longing  for 
a  fuller  experience  of  God  (Rom.  viii.  23-27).  And  so  the 
light  within  is  the  light  of  God,  as  we  allow  Him  to  become 
one  with  us.'  ^  But  St.  Paul's  contemporaries  could  not 
all  rise  to  this  conception.  They  traced  the  operation  of 
the  Spirit  rather  in  fitful  and  unaccountable  manifesta- 
tions of  religious  enthusiasm.  The  more  strange  and 
1  Grubb,  Authority  and  the  Light  Within,  p.  62. 


VI.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  89 

wild  these  were,  the  more  sure  they  were  that  there  was 
something  divine  in  them.  In  the  various  charismata y 
especially,  they  found  unmistakable  evidence  of  an 
influx  of  the  supernatural.  The  '  pneumatic  '  or  spiritual 
man  was  one  who  spoke  with  tongues  or  prophesied. 
This  undisciplined  enthusiasm  was  discouraged,  and  in 
the  end  suppressed  or  expelled  by  the  Catholic  Church, 
though  it  lived  on  in  a  different  form,  in  the  strange  belief 
in  visions.  TertuUian,  writing  about  a.d.  200,  has  the 
startling  and  very  significant  statement  that  *  the 
majority  of  men  derive  their  knowledge  of  God  from 
visions.'  ^  In  the  following  centuries,  the  visions  of  the 
monks  and  nuns  were  the  chief  sources  of  supposed  in- 
formation about  the  life  after  death.  All  the  horrors  of 
the  medieval  Inferno  were  thus  guaranteed,  and  a  great 
part  of  the  terrible  pictures  of  hell,  which  seem  to  us  so 
grotesque  and  wantonly  cruel,  was  the  direct  result  of 
the  supernatural  authority  attributed  to  the  nightmares 
of  holy  men. 

In  our  own  day,  the  belief  in  directly  inspired  prophets 
among  our  contemporaries  has  practically  disappeared, 
as  it  disappeared  in  Palestine  between  Malachi  and  John 
the  Baptist.  But  the  belief  in  supernatural  guidance 
vouchsafed  to  individuals  survives  both  in  its  true  and 
in  its  more  dubious  form. 

The  distinguishing  mark  of  this  belief  in  individual 
illumination  is  the  acceptance  of  the  supposed  divine 
communication  simply  and  without  question.  A  man, 
for  instance,  will  hesitate  about  accepting  an  appointment 
until  he  feels  a  distinct  '  leading  '  to  say  yes  or  no  ;  then 
he  will  act  at  once,  putting  aside  any  self-questionings 
as  to  his  fitness  for  the  post. 

I  must  try  to  indicate  what  measure  of  truth  and  error 
I  consider  to  reside  in  this  Faith  in  direct  inspiration. 

1  See  the  interesting  note  in  Harnack,  History  of  Dogma^  yol.  i.  p.  63 
(Engllsli  translation). 


90  FAITH  [oh. 

Assuredly  all  good  men  are  guided  in  various  degrees  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  who  dwells,  St.  Paul  says,  in  all  but  the 
reprobate.  We  have  within  us  a  tribunal  before  which 
it  is  our  right  and  our  duty  to  bring  every  doubtful  case. 
And  in  this  '  discerning  of  spirits '  we  may  hope  that  we 
are  guided  not  by  our  own  unaided  wisdom,  but  by  the 
divine  gift  of  grace  which  is  only  the  other  side  of  the 
human  virtue  of  Faith.  In  trusting  miraculous  '  leadings,' 
the  error  is  in  supposing  that  we  can  accept  any  mental 
suggestion,  without  question,  as  coming  from  God.  The 
suggestion  may  come  to  us  in  a  mysterious  manner — in  a 
vivid  dream,  or  associated  with  a  strange  coincidence,  or 
in  some  other  way  unlike  our  usual  mental  processes. 
But  these  are  no  necessary  tokens  of  divine  inspiration ; 
it  is  superstition,  not  religion,  to  suppose  that  they  are. 
Divine  guidance  is  given  us  ;  but  the  degree  of  it  is  deter- 
*  mined  by  our  spiritual  and  mental  condition,  and  it  is 
not  communicated  in  a  magical  manner,  so  as  to  save 
us  the  trouble  of  further  inquiry.  If  the  man  who,  when 
he  has  been  offered  an  appointment,  waits  for  some 
'  leading,'  and  does  not  try  to  weigh  the  pros  and  cons 
fairly,  were  to  consider  the  reasons  for  and  against 
acceptance,  prayerfully,  but  with  the  best  use  of  his 
reason,  he  would  be  more  likely  to  be  guided  aright  in  his 
decision.  In  short,  the  error  is  in  trying  to  fix  the 
immediacy  of  special  inspiration,  as  Quietists  try  to  fix 
the  immediacy  of  general,  diffused  inspiration.  Special 
guidance  in  emergencies  comes  to  us  through  our  ordinary 
faculties  if  it  comes  at  all.  Sanctity  does  not  confer  the 
power  of  divination. 

The  theory  of  individual  inspiration,  if  pushed  to  its 
logical  conclusion,  is  too  absurd  to  be  widely  held.  It 
would  result  in  making  each  Christian,  who  believed  him- 
self inspired,  his  own  church  and  his  own  Bible.  But 
even  in  a  democratic  age  it  would  seem  ridiculous  to 
apply  the  theory  of  *  one  man  one  vote  '  to  rehgion.    This 


I 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  91 

type  of  Faith  can  be  studied  in  its  most  favourable  form 
in  the  writings  of  the  earUer  Quakers.  In  the  words  of  a 
living  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  whom  I  have 
already  quoted  in  this  lecture,  '  they  made  the  inner  light 
something  wholly  alien  to  man's  nature.  It  was  not  an 
attribute  of  man,  but  a  substance  entirely  separate  from 
man's  own  being.  "  The  light  of  which  we  speak,"  says 
Barclay,  "  is  not  only  distinct  but  of  a  different  nature 
from  the  soul  of  man  and  its  faculties."  It  is  not  to  be 
identified  with  the  conscience  any  more  than  a  candle 
is  the  same  as  the  lantern  that  holds  it.'  ^  The  error 
here,  which,  as  this  passage  shows,  is  fully  admitted  by 
modem  '  Friends,'  is  substantially  the  same  as  that  of 
quietistic  mysticism. 

This  extreme  form  of  individualism  has  not  been  very 
prominent  in  the  history  of  Christianity.  The  authorities 
which  in  history  have  swayed  the  destiny  of  nations  have 
been  more  external  and  more  august.  They  have  spoken 
to  man,  not  within  him. 

Let  us  first  consider  the  historical  evolution  of  the  idea 
of  the  Church,  as  the  divinely  inspired  source  of  authority. 

I  have  already  shown  that  the  conception  of  Faith  as  a 
body  of  doctrine,  supematurally  accredited  and  therefore 
to  be  accepted  in  its  entirety,  is  primitive.  The  guiding 
idea  of  Catholicism  began  to  establish  itself  as  soon  as 
there  was  a  Church  for  it  to  grow  in.  *  The  Catholic 
theory  of  apostolic  tradition,'  says  Sabatier,^  who  writes 
from  a  Protestant  standpoint,  *  is  found  clearly  defined 
and  established  as  an  infallible  and  sovereign  law  in  the 
times  of  Irenaeus,  Tertullian,  and  Hippolytus.'  The 
concentration  of  power  in  the  hands  of  the  Roman  Church, 
as  the  authoritative  interpreter  of  this  tradition,  advanced 
as  if  by  an  automatic  process.  To  quote  Sabatier  again : 
'  The  future  centre  of  the  Catholic  Church  appeared  from 

1  Grubb,  Authority  and  the  Light  Within,  p.  81. 

•  Sabatier,  Le$  Meligions  cPAutoriii  et  la  Religion  de  VMsjprit, 


92  FAITH  [ctt 

the  commencement  of  the  second  century,'  and  in  the  year 
194,  '  for  the  first  time  a  bishop  of  Rome,  Victor,  speaks 
as  master  to  the  other  bishops,  presents  himself  as  inter- 
preter and  arbiter  of  the  universal  Church,  acts  as 
universal  bishop,  and  proclaims  heretical  the  churches 
that  would  resist  his  authority.'  In  Cyprian's  time  the 
bishops  were  all  theoretically  equal.  Yet  such  is  the 
interior  logic  of  the  system  that  Cyprian  himself  laid  the 
foundation  of  a  new  evolution  which  was  to  produce  from 
the  body  of  bishops  that  episcopus  episcoporum  against 
whom  he  had  tried  to  guard  himself.  The  trend  of  the 
Catholic  polity  towards  a  centralised  despotism  went  on 
irresistibly  and  inexorably. 

When  once  the  Roman  primacy  is  recognised,  all  later 
developments  of  the  papal  prerogative,  down  to  our  own 
times,  are  only  the  logical  conclusion  of  the  CathoHc  con- 
ception of  the  Church.  The  infallibility  which  was  the 
attribute  of  the  universal  Church  was  gradually  con- 
centrated in  the  Roman  Church,  and  thence  passed  to  the 
Roman  bishop.  When  the  Pope  was  held  to  be  the  head 
and  voice  of  the  Church,  the  infallibility  of  the  Church 
could  not  express  itself  through  another  mouth. 
[  Roman  Catholicism  is  a  religion  of  authority.  When 
a  man  who  has  been  a  Protestant  becomes  a  Roman 
Catholic,  he  must  learn  a  kind  of  submission  that  we  in 
England,  or  America,  know  nothing  of  in  any  other  relation 
of  life,  unless  we  are  soldiers  on  a  campaign.  Where 
the  Church  has  spoken,  the  loyal  Catholic  must  obey 
without  question.  Nor  is  this  authority  confined  to 
religious  matters.  '  That  authority,'  says  Cardinal 
Newman,  ^  *  has  the  prerogative  of  an  indirect  jurisdiction 
on  subject-matters  which  lie  beyond  its  own  proper 
limits,  and  it  most  reasonably  has  such  a  jurisdiction. 
It  could  not  properly  defend  religious  truth  without 
claiming  for  that  truth  what  may  be  called  its  pomoeria, 
1  Development  of  Christian  Doctrine. 


VI.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  93 

or,  to  take  another  illustration,  without  acting  as  we  act, 
as  a  nation,  in  claiming  as  our  own  not  only  the  land  on 
which  we  live,  but  what  are  called  British  waters.  The 
Catholic  Church  claims,  not  only  to  judge  infallibly  on 
religious  questions,  but  to  animadvert  on  opinions  in 
secular  matters  which  bear  upon  religion,  on  matters  of 
philosophy,  of  science,  of  hterature,  of  history,  and  it 
demands  our  submission  to  her  claim.  It  claims  to 
censure  books,  to  silence  authors,  and  to  forbid  discussions. 
It  must,  of  course,  be  obeyed  without  a  word,  and  perhaps, 
in  process  of  time,  it  will  tacitly  recede  from  its  own 
injunctions.'  How  like  this  is  to  the  history  of  the  growth 
of  the  Roman  world-empire  !  Each  new  province  demands 
a  further  annexation  to  secure  its  frontier  ;  and  nothing 
short  of  military  discipline  and  military  organisation  will 
keep  the  vast  dominion  together. 

But  we  must  examine  more  closely  the  claims  of  a 
theory  which  has  so  august  a  history.  It  rests  entirely 
on  the  theory  of  a  clearly  distinguishable  special  divine 
revelation,  as  does  the  Protestant  theory  of  an  infallible 
book.  At  the  close  of  this  discussion  we  must  consider 
how  far  this  distinction  is  valid.  According  to  the 
Catholic  theory,  the  Church  is  not  simply  a  divinely 
founded  establishment  which  continues  to  administer  the 
trusts  committed  to  it  by  its  Founder,  but  it  is  in  its 
corporate  capacity  a  direct  continuation  of  the  Incarna- 
tion, permanently  and  fully  inspired  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
who,  in  accordance  with  the  promise  of  Jesus  Christ, 
made  while  He  was  on  earth,  was  to  take  His  place  as  a 
Divine  Presence  among  men,  until  His  coming  again. 
It  is  true  that  God  had  never  left  Himself  without  witness, 
even  in  heathendom  ;  but  from  the  first  Whitsunday  He 
he^s  had  '  a  special  abode,  an  organised  and  visible  agency 
for  distributing  a  higher  and  supernatural  order  of  grace,'  * 
a  guidance  differing  in  kind  from  natural  wisdom  and 
1  Martineau,  Seat  0/ Authority  in  Religion,  p.  130. 


94  FAITH  [CH. 

goodness.  If  we  ask  how  we  are  to  know  that  one 
particular  corporation,  and  no  others,  has  the  privilege 
of  being  the  sole  trustee  of  this  supernatural  revelation, 
we  are  referred  to  four  marks,  the  famous  '  notes '  of  a 
true  Church,  viz.  Unity,  Sanctity,  UniversaUty,  and 
Apostolicity. 

We  are  bound  to  ask,  whether,  as  a  matter  of  historical 
fact,  the  Roman  Church,  or  the  Catholic  Church,  which 
is  so  defined  as  to  include  all  Episcopalian  bodies  having 
the  *  Apostolic  Succession,'  but  no  others,  can  claim  to 
exhibit  these  marks.  If  it  fails  to  do  so,  it  will  be  un- 
necessary to  ask  the  further  question,  whether  these  four 
notes,  if  they  were  established,  would  be  sufiicient  founda- 
tion for  so  tremendous  a  claim.  The  first  note.  Unity, 
used  to  be  understood  to  mean  that  there  have  been  no 
changes  in  the  teaching  of  the  Church  since  Apostolic 
times.  /  Dogma  is  unchangeable — immobilis  et  irrefor- 
mabilis.  This  theory,  as  we  shall  see  presently,  has  been 
abandoned  by  the  Liberal  school  of  Catholic  apologists  in 
favour  of  the  doctrine  of  natural  and  necessary  develop- 
ment. It  is,  indeed,  only  by  completely  rewriting  Church 
history  that  the  mutability  and  mutations  of  dogma  can 
be  disputed.  The  Roman  CathoHcs  have  made  a 
legitimate  point  against  their  Anglican  opponents  by 
proving  that  the  germs  of  modem  CathoHcism  can  be 
detected  even  in  the  sub-Apostolic  age.  But  they  have 
not  proved,  and  cannot  prove,  that  there  have  been  no 
important  changes. 

The  verdict  of  history  has  been  pronounced  decisively 
against  the  theory  that  the  supernatural  character  of  the 
Church  can  be  demonstrated  by  the  miraculous  and 
unparalleled  '  stability '  of  its  teaching.^ 

It  would  not  be  in  accordance  with  the  plan  of  those 
lectures  to  give  detailed  examples  of  the  mutability  of 
dogma   and   culture.     Martineau   has   given   some   clear 

1  Ct  Burkitt,  Early  Christianity  outside  the  Roman  Empire,  p.  d. 


VI.]  AUTHOEITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  95 

examples  in  his  Seat  of  Authority  in  Religion y  and  any  fairly 
written  Church  history  will  supply  abundant  evidence. 

The  exclusive  claim  to  Sanctity  can  hardly  be  taken 
seriously.  We  have  no  means  of  determining  who  are 
God's  true  saints,  and  we  are  expressly  forbidden  to 
attempt  to  do  so.  If  sanctity  is  an  occult  quality,  known 
to  God  alone,  it  obviously  cannot  be  appealed  to  as  a 
*  note.'  It  is  useless  to  offer  evidence  which,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  cannot  be  produced.  But  so  far  as 
we  have  the  means  of  forming  an  opinion,  it  would  appear 
that  men  and  women  of  the  highest  character  have 
appeared  in  nearly  all  religious  bodies,  and  that,  though 
the  Roman  communion  may  claim  to  have  been  exception- 
ally rich  in  saints,  it  is  also  true  that  among  the  most 
odious  scoundrels  who  have  disgraced  humanity  have 
been  found  some  of  the  most  highly  placed  ecclesiastics 
of  the  Roman  Church. ^ 

The  third  '  note,'  Universality,  is  interpreted  to  mean 
that  Catholics  everywhere  profess  the  same  Faith.  It  is 
difficult  to  see  what  argument  can  be  based  on  such  a 
fact,  were  it  true.  The  Tariff  Reform  League  every- 
where professes  the  same  faith,  because  those  who  h.  ppen 
to  be  free-traders  do  not  subscribe  to  it.  But  in  point 
of  fact,  divergences  of  belief  have  never  ceased  to  show 
themselves  in  the  Catholic  Church,  in  spite  of  the  prompt 
amputations  to  which  she  has  always  been  ready  to  resort. 

The  fourth  note,  Apostolicity,  is  a  simple  begging  of  the 
question  as  between  Catholicism  and  other  bodies.     For 

1  A  good  example  of  the  manner  in  which  history  must  be  written  to  satisfy 
the  demands  of  the  Catholic  theory  is  furnished  by  a  recent  biographical 
work :  Chronicles  of  the  House  of  Borgia  by  Frederick,  Baron  Corvo. 
'Alexander  vi.,  as  earthly  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ,  merits  our  reverent  admira- 
tion. His  personal  piety  was  simple,  diligent,  and  real.  He  greatly  revered  the 
Deipara,  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  In  her  honour  he  ordained  the  bell  which 
rings  at  sunset,  sunrise,  and  noon,  for  the  Angelus  Domini  in  memory  of  the 
Incarnation.  On  his  deathbed  he  said,  W«  have  always  had  a  singular  affection 
for  the  most  holy  Vigin.'  This  singular  affection  for  the  Virgin  was  testified, 
among  other  ways,  by  having  one  of  his  mistresses  painted  as  the  Madonna 
with  the  infant  Saviour. 


96  FAITH  [CH. 

all  Christian  bodies  claim  spiritual  descent  from  the 
Apostolic  Church.  Whether  a  particular  method  of 
devolution  is  essential  or  not  is  the  main  point  at  issue 
between  them. 

The  four  '  notes,'  then,  completely  break  down,  and  a 
theory  of  Church  authority  which  has  no  better  arguments 
than  these  to  rely  upon  must  be  in  a  very  precarious 
position.  In  truth,  the  legitimate  claim  of  authority  in 
matters  of  Faith  is  grievously  weakened  by  these  attempts 
to  narrow  its  sphere.  It  is  assumed  that  if  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  a  Church,  it  must  be  the  Roman  Church  ;  and 
the  religious  consciousness  of  Europe  is  naively  assumed 
to  have  sanctioned  not  only  the  divinity  of  Christ,  but 
the  apotheosis  of  Mary  and  the  cult  of  the  saints. 

At  the  present  time,  however,  the  most  interesting 
feature  in  Roman  Catholicism,  from  our  point  of 
view,  is  the  growth  of  a  dynamic  theory  of  Church 
authority.  This  is,  at  least  for  Catholics,  the  most 
Important  practical  question  as  to  the  nature  of  authority 
in  matters  of  Faith.  In  order  to  understand  it,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  contrast  the  static  and  dynamic  theories  of 
revelation,  outside  the  Roman  Church,  as  well  as  within 
its  borders. 

By  a  static  view  of  revelation,  as  opposed  to  a  dynamic, 
I  mean  the  theory  that  a  supernatural  revelation  was  at 
some  past  time  granted  to  mankind,  which  now  persists 
only  in  its  effects.  The  date  when  the  authoritative  and 
infallible  revelation  began,  and  when  it  ceased,  may  be 
fixed  anywhere,  the  limits  being  purely  arbitrary.  Accord- 
ing to  the  old-fashioned  high  Anglican  theory,  we  can 
only  rely  with  certainty  on  the  pronouncements  of  the 
undivided  Church.  The  seven  general  councils  may 
claim  infallibility.  After  the  schism  between  East  and 
West,  the  supernatural  guidance  of  the  Holy  Ghost  went 
into  abeyance  among  the  different  Churches,  which  had 
excommunicated  each  other,  exactly  as  an  old  English 


VI.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  »7 

peerage  goes  into  abeyance  when  a  peer  leaves  two  or  more 
daughters,  and  no  sons.  None  of  the  daughters  may  take 
the  title,  which  accordingly  is  erased  from  the  roll  of  the 
peerage  :  but  if  the  descendants  of  all  the  daughters 
except  one  die  out,  or  if  the  head  of  one  clan  of  cousins 
marries  the  head  of  the  only  other  remaining  clan,  the 
eldest  representative  of  the  family  may  claim  the  title, 
and  the  series  is  resumed  where  it  left  off.  Just  so,  if  all 
except  one  of  the  divided  Churches  which  have  the  Apostoli- 
cal Succession  were  to  disappear,  or  if  they  would  resume 
communion  with  each  other,  and  would  agree  to  hold  an 
eighth  general  council,  that  council  would  be  infallibly 
guided  in  its  decisions,  in  spite  of  the  absence  of  non- 
episcopal  schismatical  bodies,  which  are  neither  churches 
nor  integral  parts  of  the  one  Church.  This  fantastic  theory 
is  not  often  heard  of  by  the  younger  generation,  but  it 
was  part  of  the  foundations  of  the  Tractarian  position. 
It  is,  in  effect,  a  static  view,  because  the  conditions  of  in- 
fallible guidance  ceased  to  exist  long  ago,  and  there  is  no 
likelihood  of  their  being  revived.  The  Church  can  never 
modify  its  constitution,  because  the  only  body  which  could 
legalise  changes  is  a  body  which  can  never  meet.  It  is 
much  as  if  no  Act  of  Parliament  were  valid  until  it  had 
been  passed  by  a  joint  session  of  the  House  of  Commons 
and  the  American  Congress.  The  theory  is  well  adapted 
to  support  the  old  Anglican  *  appeal  to  antiquity.'  If  no 
further  developments  of  doctrine,  or  practice,  which  have 
taken  place  since  the  seventh  general  council,  can  claim  any 
authority,  modem  Romanism  and  theological  Liberalism, 
and  anything  that  is  new  in  Protestantism,  are  alike  con- 
demned. 

Another  essentially  static  theory  of  revelation,  which 
at  present  shows  more  vitality  than  the  old-fashioned 
Anglican  theory,  is  that  which  is  usually  called  after  the 
name  of  Albrecht  Ritschl,  of  Gottingen  (died  1889).  I 
shall  have  occasion,  later  in  this  course,  to  consider  the 

6 


86  FAITH  [CH. 

theory  of  value-Judgments  which  is  the  most  famous  part 
of  his  philosophy.  Here  I  must  only  refer  to  his  theory 
of  revelation.  This  is  a  curious  blend  of  Schleiermacher's 
view  of  Faith  as  pure  feeling,  with  an  old-Protestant 
insistence  on  preaching  *  Jesus  only.'  In  order  to  under- 
stand Christianity,  he  holds,  we  must  go  back  at  every 
point  to  the  historical  revelation  once  given  in  the  Person 
of  Jesus  Christ.  And  this  revelation  was  definitely  closed 
at  the  time  of  the  Crucifixion.  He  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  Pauline  doctrine  of  communion  with  the  glorified 
Christ.  '  Christ  brings  us  to  God '  ;  but  only  by  the  im- 
pression made  upon  us  by  the  study  of  the  Synoptic 
Gospels.  This  position  is  as  untenable  as  the  old  Anglican 
theory,  though  for  different  reasons.  The  obvious  and 
fundamental  fallacy  in  Ritschl's  theory  is  the  supposition 
that  Faith  in  a  historical  fact  can  be  based  on  grounds 
which  are  altogether  independent  of  historical  judgment. 
For  Ritschl  wUl  not  allow  us  to  base  our  Faith  in  Christ 
on  intellectual  conviction  that  the  narratives  about  Him 
are  trustworthy.  Judgments  of  fact,  of  this  kind,  seem 
to  him  irrelevant  in  religion.  And  yet  religion,  he  says, 
must  be  before  all  things  *  historical.'  So  glaring  is  this 
inconsistency  that  some  of  the  ablest  of  the  so-called 
Ritschlian  school,  such  as  Kaftan,  lay  great  stress  on 
*  the  exalted  Christ,'  though  they  still  refuse  any  respect 
to  the  Logos-Christology. 

Church  history,  written  under  the  influence  of  this 
static  theory  of  revelation,  must  needs  be  a  depressing 
record  of  deterioration  and  corruption.  Even  Hamack's 
great  History  of  Dogma,  (though  Hamack  is  too  inde- 
pendent a  thinker  to  be  called  without  qualification  a 
Ritschlian),  takes  the  standpoint  that  later  developments 
were  a  'secularisation'  and  * depotentiation '  of  the 
original  Gospel.  We  are  always  to  look  back,  not  forward, 
for  our  inspiration. 

The  older  Roman  Cathofic  apologetic  did  not  differ  very 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GEOUND  OF  FAITH  99 

much  from  Anglicanism  or  Protestantism  in  the  re- 
spect which  it  paid  to  primitive  authority.  The  chief 
difference  is  that  Scholasticism,  as  represented  by  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas,  give's  a  larger  place  to  human  reason 
in  corroborating  revelation.  The  authorised  Catholic 
apologetic  does  not  rest  everything  on  authority.  On  the 
contrary,  St.  Thomas  maintains  that  the  being  and  chief 
attributes  of  God  might  be  demonstrated,  even  apart  i 
from  revelation,  by  ordinary  reason.  There  is  therefore 
in  his  system  no  disparateness  between  reason  and  authority.  ^ 
[Authority  supplements  reason,  and  reason  interprets  autho- 
rity. But  the  Nominalists  who  followed  Duns  Scotus  cut 
authority  loose  from  its  moorings,  and  erected  it  into  a 
wholly  independent  principle  of  belief.  Duns  Scotus  him- 
self, and  still  more  Occam  and  Alexander  of  Hales,  are  as 
sceptical  of  the  old  proofs  of  God's  existence  as  Kant 
himself,  and  unlike  Kant  they  fall  back  not  on  the  practical 
reason,  but  on  bare  authority.  Occam  declares  that 
monotheism  is,  on  intellectual  grounds,  only  a  more  pro- 
bable theory  than  polytheism.  God's  will,  according  to 
Scotus,  cannot  be  ascertained  from  our  moral  sense  ;  it 
is  imparted  to  us  only  in  revelation.  Thomas  Aquinas 
had  himself  abandoned  the  position  of  Bonaventura  and 
Albert  the  Great,  who  had  undertaken  to  prove  the  beginning 
of  the  world  in  time.  The  Creation,  and  the  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity,  must  be  believed,  he  says,  '  by  Faith  alone.' 
This  was  a  dangerous  concession,  which  the  Nominalists 
made  the  most  of,  carrying  the  same  principle  over  to  other 
dogmas.  It  was  not  intended,  I  think,  by  any  of  the 
Schoolmen  to  cut  authority  loose  from  the  past,  as  well 
as  from  reason ;  but  the  Nominalist  theory  gave  the 
Church  a  free  hand  to  order  anything  to  be  believed.  The 
privilege  of  interpreting  tradition  infallibly  is  not  far 
from  the  privilege  of  determining  it.  The  time  came  when 
Pio  Nono  could  say,  '  I  am  tradition.' 

The    recognition   of    development,   of   the    '  dynamic ' 


100  FAITH  [cH. 

principle  as  it  is  called  in  contrast  with  the  *  static  '  theory 
that  dogma  can  undergo  no  change,  is  modem  in  apolo- 
getics. It  laid  strong  hold  on  Newman  when  he  had  freed 
himself  from  the  false  position  in  which  he  had  remained 
for  some  years.  He  set  himself  to  prove  that  Catholic 
theology  is  a  legitimate  development,  and  not  a  corruption, 
of  the  primitive  Faith.  Now,  what  are  the  tests  of  a  legi- 
timate development  ?  The  first  test,  Newman  tells  us,  is 
the  preservation  of  the  type  ;  the  second,  the  continuity 
of  principles.  Thirdly,  doctrines  must  have  the  power 
of  assimilation,  like  living  organisms.  They  will  also 
show  anticipations  of  further  development,  to  be  fully 
exhibited  hereafter.  Next,  they  will  show  logical  sequence, 
not  that  political  evolution  proceeds  logically,  but  when 
it  is  accomplished,  we  can  see  that  a  kind  of  unconscious 
logic  has  determined  its  course.  Next,  the  new  doctrines 
must  tend  to  establish  and  illustrate,  not  to  contradict, 
the  original  creed.  Lastly,  it  bears  the  test  of  time. 
■^  Heresies  flourish  and  then  disappear ;   the  truth  continues. 

We  cannot  help  feeling  how  far  superior  this  is  to  the 
static  theory  of  revelation.  Nothing  is  more  clear  about 
our  Lord's  ministry  than  that  He  designed  to  give  mankind 
not  a  code  of  legislation,  but  a  standard  of  values  ;  that 
He  laid  down  principles  which  future  ages  were  to  apply 
and  work  out,  not  a  fixed  rule  to  which  the  religious  future 
of  the  race  was  to  be  forced  to  conform.  The  whole  con- 
ception of  the  office  and  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which 
we  find  in  the  New  Testament,  especially  in  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  involves  the  clearest  grasp  of  the  principle  of 
development  which  had  up  to  that  time  been  contemplated. 

Nor  can  we  find  fault  with  the  argument  that  the 
collective  inspiration  of  a  great  society  is  an  easier  thing 
to  believe  in  and  to  defend  than  the  inspired  private 
judgment  of  individuals.  Authority  may  claim  to  be 
the  right  of  the  race  against  the  individual ;  it  may  claim 
to  be  the  conscience  or  the  intelligence  of  the  race,  which 


VI.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GEOUND  OF  FAITH  101 

develops  indeed  in  a  natural  and  legitimate  manner  from 
generation  to  generation,  and  from  century  to  century, 
but  stores  up  and  hands  on  the  acquisitions  of  the  past 
in  a  way  which  is  not  possible  to  the  private  inquirer 
who  will  take  nothing  for  granted.  If  Christ  promised 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  be  always  present  to  guide 
the  Church,  may  we  not  assume  that  He  would  have 
prevented  the  Church,  in  her  corporate  capacity,  from 
taking  any  serious  false  steps  ? 

The  weak  point  of  Newman's  argument  is  very  apparent 
to  all  who  are  not  Roman  Catholics,  though  within  his 
own  communion  it  is  less  obvious,  because  of  the  aristo- 
cratic contempt  which  prevents  its  members  from  paying 
any  attention  to  other  forms  of  Christianity.  '  Catholi- 
cism,' says  Dom  Cuthbert  Butler,  in  an  article  in  the 
Hihhert  Journal  intended  for  the  religious  public  generally, 
'Catholicism,  and,  for  Western  Europe,  Roman  Catholi- 
cism, is  the  religion  into  which,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
religion  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles  has  grown.'  It  was 
this  assumption  that  lent  so  great  a  weight  to  the  words 
securus  iudicat  orhis  terrarum,  which  seemed  to  Newman 
decisive  against  Anglicanism  and  in  favour  of  Rome. 
But  how  strangely  narrow  the  outlook  which  sees  no 
alternative  except  between  atheism  and  the  Vatican ! 
Newman's  orbis  terrarum  is,  as  I  have  said  elsewhere,  a 
dwindling  and  harassed  minority  in  a  few  countries  round 
the  Mediterranean  sea.  It  comprises,  broadly  speaking, 
the  Latinised  part  of  the  Roman  Empire  ;  and  within 
those  limits,  though  it  has  been  fairly  successful  in 
suppressing  other  forms  of  Christianity,  it  has  not 
succeeded  in  retaining  either  the  masses  or  the  '  intel- 
lectuals.' If  then  the  ultimate  test  of  a  creed  is  its 
vitality,  the  argument  recoils  with  fatal  force  on 
Newman's  own  head. 

Newman  is  not  insensible  to  the  fact  that  this  very 
argument  has  led  many  to  reject  Roman  Catholicism, 


102  FAITH  [oh. 

because  history  seems  to  prove  that  it  is  not  compatible 
with  social  and  intellectual  progress  beyond  a  certain 
stage.  He  meets  this  objection  by  rejecting  modem 
civilisation  as  a  huge  mistake.  He  would  prefer,  he  says, 
to  see  people  much  more  bigoted  and  superstitious  than 
they  are,  for  a  dishonest  Irish  beggar  woman,  who  is 
chaste  and  goes  to  Mass,  is  better  than  an  honourable 
Enghsh  gentleman  whose  ideals  are,  after  all,  secular. 
It  is  enough  to  say  in  reply  to  this,  that  it  is  a  complete 
abandonment  of  his  test.  He  begins  by  saying,  '  The 
great  world  shall  judge '  ;  and  ends  by  saying,  '  If  the 
world  decides  against  Rome,  so  much  the  worse  for  the 
world.' 

Newman  is  claimed  as  one  of  the  inspirers  of  the  modem 
Liberal  movement  in  the  Roman  Church,  though  he 
would  have  recoiled  in  horror  from  the  critical  conclusions 
of  Loisy  and  his  friends.  One  passage  will  be  enough  to 
prove  this.  *  First  of  all,'  writes  the  Cardinal,  many 
years  after  joining  the  Roman  Church,  *  ex  abundanti 
cautela  [that  is,  as  something  almost  too  obvious  to  need 
stating],  every  CathoUc  holds  that  the  Christian  dogmas 
were  in  the  Church  from  the  time  of  the  Apostles  ;  that 
they  were  ever  in  their  substance  what  they  are  now.'  ^ 
There  is  an  essential  difference  between  this  theory  of 
apparent  development  which  excludes  real  changes  and 
the  Modernist  theory  of  an  idea  clothing  itself  in  new 
forms  from  age  to  age. 

That  movement  rests  partly  on  a  dynamic  conception  of 
authority,  carried  to  the  pitch  of  admitting  the  right  and 
power  of  the  Church  to  change  its  creed  and  dogmas  if 
necessary,  and  partly  on  the  agnostic  position  that  human 
reason  caimot  go  beyond  phenomena,  from  which  the 
corollary  is  drawn  that  whatever  helps  souls  may  be  taken 
as  true,  or  as  near  the  truth  as  we  can  get.  This  latter 
contention  belongs  to  a  later  chapter  of  our  inquiry — viz. 
1  Quoted  by  Bishop  Gore,  Bampton  Lectures,  p.  186. 


Fi.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  103 

the  practical,  or  pragmatic,  ground  of  Faith,  and  I  will 
try  to  give  you  a  fair  account  of  the  position  of  the 
Liberal  CathoUcs  when  we  come  to  that  branch  of  our 
subject.  Here  I  am  dealing  with  the  claim  of  one  branch 
of  the  Christian  Church  to  be  the  sole  trustee  of  a 
definite  supernatural  gift — the  power  of  pronouncing 
infallibly  and  authoritatively  on  matters  of  Faith.  And 
our  conclusion  is  that  there  never  has  been,  and  never 
will  be,  any  corporation  which  can  decide  such  questions 
ex  cathedra.  I  am  not  disputing  the  right  of  any  society 
to  impose  its  own  conditions  of  membership  ;  that  is 
quite  a  different  thing  ;  but  there  is  nowhere  any  man 
or  institution  which  can  impose  silence  upon  the  moral 
and  LQtellectual  protests  of  the  human  mind,  in  the  name 
of  some  still  higher  authority.  There  is  nowhere  any 
dogma  which  is  exempt  from  examination,  because  it  is 
guaranteed  to  be  de  fide. 

The  Modernist  position  with  regard  to  authority  may 
be  thus  summarised.  '  Religion,  like  everything  else  that 
lives,  is  subject  to  the  law  of  growth,  which  involves 
change.  The  God  of  the  Old  Testament  differs  widely 
from  the  Father  whom  Christ  preached,  and  the  formulas 
of  our  day  differ  in  meaning,  if  not  in  form,  from  the 
regula  fidei  of  the  early  Church.  Jesus  Himself  believed 
in  an  approaching  *end  of  the  age,'  a  catastrophic  in- 
auguration of  a  '  kingdom  of  God '  upon  earth.  It  is 
therefore  impossible  to  suppose  that  He  meant  to  organise 
and  legislate  for  the  coming  centuries.  In  the  Gospels, 
as  in  the  rest  of  Scripture,  the  letter  killeth,  but  the 
spirit  giveth  life.  But  this  law  of  change  is  not  incon- 
sistent with  the  authority  of  behef.  For  though  truth  is 
changeless,  its  image  as  reflected  in  human  minds  con- 
tinually alters.  The  living  Faith  i§  the  important  thing  ; 
the  forms  which  it  employs  in  the  vain  attempt  to  be 
articulate  are  mutable  and  imperfect.'  The  Catholic 
Modernist  differs  from  such  Protestant  writers  as  Hamack 


104  FAITH  [CH. 

and  Sabatier,  with  whom,  in  other  ways,  he  has  much  in 
common,  in  that  he  has  no  wish  to  discard  the  luxuriant 
growth  of  dogma  and  return  to  a  fabled  'primitive 
simplicity.'  He  does  not  find  in  the  historical  Jesus  the 
basis  for  a  working  faith ;  he  cannot  admit  that  the  inter- 
pretation of  His  life  and  teaching  given  by  German 
Protestantism  is  historically  true  ;  but  he  is  content  with 
the  incontestable  fact  that  a  great  institution  has  come 
into  existence,  and  flourished  for  nearly  two  thousand 
years,  which  has  created  a  series  of  dogmas,  the  products 
of  its  '  faith  and  love,'  dogmas  which  have  been  necessary 
for  its  existence,  and  which  therefore  are  valid  until  they 
cease  to  perform  their  office.  This  is  really  opportunism 
in  excelsis.  The  seat  of  authority  is  the  verdict  of  history, 
and  in  history  no  judgment  is  final.  '  The  visible  Church,' 
writes  Mr.  Tyrrell  in  his  Much-abused  Letter,  '  is  but  a 
means,  a  way,  a  creature,  to  be  used  where  it  helps,  to  be 
left  where  it  hinders.  .  .  .  Who  have  taught  us  that  the 
consensus  of  theologians  cannot  err,  but  the  theologians 
themselves  ?  Mortal,  fallible,  ignorant  men  like  our- 
selves. .  .  .  Their  present  domination  is  but  a  passing 
episode  in  the  Church's  history.  ,  .  .  May  not  history 
repeat  itself  [as  in  the  transition  from  Judaism  to 
Christianity]  ?  Is  God's  arm  shortened  that  He  should 
not  again,  out  of  the  very  stones,  raise  up  children 
unto  Abraham  ?  May  not  Catholicism,  like  Judaism, 
have  to  die  in  order  that  it  may  live  again  in  a  greater 
and  grander  form  ?  Has  not  every  organism  got  its 
limits  of  development,  after  which  it  must  decay  and  be 
content  to  survive  in  its  progeny  ?  Wine-skins  stretch, 
but  only  within  measure ;  for  there  comes  at  last  a 
bursting-point  when  new  ones  must  be  provided.'  In 
a  note  to  justify  this  startling  passage  he  explains  :  *  The 
Church  of  the  Catacombs  became  the  Church  of  the 
Vatican ;  who  can  tell  what  the  Church  of  the  Vatican 
may  not  turn  into  ?  ' 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  105 

The  spectacle  presented  by  the  Modernist  movement  is 
a  very  interesting  one.  The  principle  of  authority  as  the 
custodian  of  primitive  tradition,  which  was  so  admirably 
successful  in  maintaining  discipline  and  unity,  ended  in 
binding  the  Roman  Church  hand  and  foot  in  chains  of 
her  own  forging.  And  so  the  Pope  claimed  the  right  to 
declare  and  interpret  '  tradition '  in  his  own  way.  Thus 
authority  turned  against  itself  ;  and  the  liberty  of  the 
Papacy  has  let  loose  the  unbounded  licence  of  the 
Modernists.  '  The  differences  between  the  larval  and 
final  stages  of  many  an  insect,'  says  Mr.  Tyrrell  again, 
*  are  often  far  greater  than  those  which  separate  kind  from 
kind.'  And  so  this  chameleon  of  a  Church,  which  has 
changed  its  colour  so  completely  since  the  Gospel  was 
preached  in  the  subterranean  galleries  of  Rome,  may 
undergo  another  transformation  and  come  to  believe  in 
M.  Loisy's  God,  who  is  '  never  encountered  in  history.' 
The  warning  against  putting  new  wine  into  old  wine-skins 
is  somewhat  rashly  introduced  into  such  a  programme  ! 

We  are,  then,  able  to  see  in  the  Roman  Church  of  to-day 
the  bankruptcy  of  the  old  theory  of  authority.  The 
theory  of  a  '  static '  revelation  given  to  the  Church  long 
ago  has  been  proved  to  be  untenable,  both  historically  and 
politically.  And  if,  abandoning  this  old  position,  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Church  is  explained  to  mean  the  continuous 
inspiration  of  its  earthly  head,  the  questions  cannot  fail  to 
be  asked.  Is  autocracy  the  divinely  ordained  government 
for  the  Church  ?  Is  it  so  certain  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
speaks  only  through  the  mouth  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome  ? 
With  this  doubt  disappears  the  possibility  of  confident 
reliance  on  the  authority  of  the  Church,  as  a  primary 
ground  of  Faith. 

The  true  '  Church,'  as  the  depositary  of  inspiration  in 
matters  of  belief  and  practice,  is  the  whole  body  of  men 
and  women  who  have  any  enlightenment  in  such  matters. 
This  Church  has  no  accredited  organ,  and  claims  no  finality 


106  FAITH  [CH. 

for  its  utterances.  It  does  homage  to  the  past,  not  to 
fetter  its  own  future,  but  to  preserve  the  knowledge  and 
experience  already  gained,  which  are  easily  lost  through 
carelessness  or  presumption.  Ideally,  this  Church  is  the 
Divine  Spirit  immanent  in  humanity.  This  identification 
of  the  Church  with  the  indwelling  Holy  Spirit  is  ancient, 
but  it  is  far  too  great  a  privilege  to  be  claimed  by  any 
ecclesiastical  corporation. 

But  though  we  cannot  for  a  moment  admit  that  infalli- 
bility resides  in  the  decisions  of  any  man  or  any  council, 
present  or  past,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  overestimate  the 
advantages  of  venerable  traditions  in  matters  of  Faith. 
Each  age  is  liable  to  be  carried  away  by  some  dominant 
idea,  which  soon  becomes  a  superstition,  as  '  progress '  did 
in  the  nineteenth  century.  Authority  has  a  steadying 
influence,  forbidding  as  to  ignore  doctrines  which  for  the 
time  are  unpopular,  and  preserving,  to  some  extent,  *  the 
proportion  of  Faith.'  In  these  high  matters  the  dead  as 
well  as  the  living  have  a  right  to  speak  ;  and  respect  for 
authority  is  the  courtesy  which  we  pay  to  the  voices  of 
*  famous  men  and  our  fathers  that  begat  us.* 


vii.J  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  X07 


P    AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH — Continued 

In  this  lecture  I  wish  to  consider  further  the  relations  of 
Faith  and  Authority.  We  have  considered  the  theory  of 
an  infallible  authority  vested  in  the  Church,  and  have 
shown  how,  just  as  in  the  Roman  Empire  authority  became 
more  and  more  centralised  until  the  emperor  became 
a  sultan,  so  in  the  Roman  Church  authority  has  come  to  be 
vested  in  one  man.     When  this  one  man  says,  '  I  am  tradi- 

1^^  tion,'  the  last  restrictions  on  autocracy  have  been  removed, 
^P  for  the  '  living  voice  of  the  Church '  is  independent  of  the 
past.  Thus  the  principle  of  authority,  in  completing  its 
evolution,  turns  against  and  destroys  itself.  At  the  same 
time,  the  regula  fidei,  in  the  hands  of  some  bold  reformers, 
has  become  independent  of  existential  fact.  The  only 
authority  is  the  course  of  history,  and  the  Church  is  a 
Proteus  who  justifies  each  metamorphosis  in  turn  by  the 
plea  II  faut  vivre.  These  two  developments  may  be  said 
to  constitute  a  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  Church  authority 
as  an  independent  ground  of  Faith. 

We  have  now  to  consider  the  Protestant  alternative 
to  the  infallible  Church— the  infallible  Book.  *  The  Bible,' 
said  Chillingworth,  *  is  the  religion  of  Protestants.'^ 

Plato  long  ago  exposed  the  necessary  limitations  of  the 
written  word  as  a  guide.  *  When  they  are  once  written 
down,'   he   says,    *  words   are   tumbled   about  anjrwhere 

1  The  words  are  written  on  his  tombstone,  but  they  do  not  deserve  to  be 
perpetuated,  for  they  are  false.  Protestantism  is  the  democracy  of  religion. 
Not  tlie  Bilile,  but  belief  in  the  inspiration  of  the  individual  is  the  rehgion  of 
Protestants. 


s^ 


108  FAITH  [cH. 

among  those  who  may  or  may  not  understand  them,  and 
know  not  to  whom  they  should  reply,  to  whom  not ;  and 
if  they  are  maltreated  or  abused,  they  have  no  parent  to 
protect  them ;  and  they  cannot  protect  or  defend  them- 
selves.' ^  There  is  another  kind  of  writing,  he  goes  on, 
graven  on  the  tablets  of  the  mind,  of  which  the  written 
word  is  no  more  than  an  image.  This  kind  is  alive  ;  it 
has  a  soul ;  and  it  can  defend  itself.  The  wisdom  of  these 
utterances  has  been  amply  proved  by  the  history  of  the 
doctrine  of  Inspiration  in  the  Christian  Church.^ 

It  was  not  till  long  after  the  Captivity  that  the_  rfiUgion. 
of  Israel  became  the  religion  of  a  Book. .  While  prophetism 
flourished^  liEe'  living  word  of  the  prophet  was  more  than 
the  written  scroll ;  but  no  sooner  had  the  fount  of 
prophecy  began  to  run  dry  than  rigid  and  mechanical 
views  of  inspiration  began  to  be  applied  to  the  sacred 
literature.  The  canonisation  of  the  Law,  which  began  in 
621,  was  accomplished  for  all  time  in  444  B.C.  The  histori- 
cal books,  called  the  '  former  prophets,'  obtained  nearly 
their  final  form  during  the  exile,  but  the  text  was  not 
inviolable  till  long  afterwards.  The  list  of  prophetical 
books,  the  'latter  prophets,'  was  closed  about  200  B.C., 
according  to  Comill.^  The  third  section  of  the  Canon 
contains  second  century  writings,  but  they  were  all 
supposed  to  be  much  earlier.  The  Canon  was  practi- 
cally settled  more  than  a  century  before  the  birth  of 
our  Lord.*  It  excluded  certain  books,  like  Ecclesi- 
asticus,  which  revealed  their  late  origin,  while  admitting 
the  pseudonymous  Daniel  and  Ecclesiastes.    The  Book  of 

1  Plato,  Phaedrus,  p.  275. 

2  There  is  a  remarkable  echo  of  this  passage  in  Milton  {Christian  Doctnne 
i.  p.  30).  *  It  is  diflBcult  to  conjecture  the  purpose  of  Providence  in  committing 
the  writings  of  the  New  Testament  to  such  uncertain  and  varying  guardian- 
ship, unless  it  were  to  teach  us  that  the  Spirit  which  is  given  to  us  ii  a  more 
certain  guide  than  Scripture,  whom  therefore  it  is  our  duty  to  follow.' 

»  Introduction  to  the  Canonical  Books  of  the  Old  Testament,  p.  476.     Cf. 
also  Encyclopoedia  Biblica,  p.  665. 
<  So  Bishop  Ryle  thinks  j  but  no  certainty  has  been  arrived  at. 


vii.]  AUTHOKITY  AS  A  GKOUND  OF  FAITH  109 

Wisdom  can  have  been  excluded  only  because  it  was 
written  in  Greek.  The  scribes  seem  to  have  acted  on  the 
belief  that  the  age  of  inspired  prophecy  was  now  past, 
and  not  to  have  purposely  admitted  any  recent  work. 
The  grandson  of  the  son  of  Sirach  does  not  dare  to  claim 
for  his  grandfather's  book  so  much  inspiration  as  the  latter 
clearly  believed  himself  to  have  possessed.  The  Canon 
was  being  closed. 

But  the  rigid  doctrine  of  inspiration  was  not  formulated 
at  once,  as  is  shown  by  the  state  of  the  text  of  the  LXX.^ 
Only  by  degrees  were  the  other  Scriptures  raised  to  the  same 
position  as  the  Law. 

Meanwhile,  the  allegorical  method  of  interpreting 
Scripture  was  at  once  making  the  written  word  more 
august,  and  removing  objections  to  belief  in  its  divine 
character.  Hatch  has  shown  that  this  method  is  Greek 
in  its  origin,  and  goes  back  as  far  as  the  fifth  century  b.c.^ 
Plato  deprecates  it.  *  It  would  take  a  long  and  laborious 
and  not  very  happy  lifetime,'  says  Socrates,  to  find  the 
allegorical  value  of  all  the  old  myths.  It  was,  however, 
pursued  by  apologists  for  the  Pagan  legends  ;  and  when 
the  Alexandrian  Jews  adopted  Greek  culture,  they  found 
the  same  method  serviceable  in  meeting  objections  to 
their  own  sacred  literature.  Philo  is  our  great  instance  of 
this,  which  he  calls  '  the  method  of  the  Greek  mysteries.' 
In  his  hands  '  every  living  figure  who  passes  across  the 
stage  of  Scripture  ceases  for  all  practical  purposes  to  be 
himself,  and  becomes  a  dim  personification.  Moses  is 
intelligence ;  Aaron  is  speech ;  Enoch  is  repentance ;  ^ 
Noah  righteousness.  Abraham  is  virtue  acquired  by 
learning  ;  Isaac  is  innate  virtue  ;  Jacob  is  virtue  obtained 
by  struggle  ;  Lot  is  sensuality  ;  Ishmael  is  sophistry  ; 
Esau  is  rude  disobedience  ;  Leah  is  patient  virtue  ;  Rachel 
innocence.'  ^    Thus  the  whole  Bible  becomes  an  insipid 

1  Sanday,  Inspiration,  p.  262.  2  Hihhert  Lectures,  1888,  p.  59. 

*  Farrar,  History  of  Interpretation,  p.  145. 


no  FAITH  [cH. 

ethical  and  metaphysical  romance,  the  interpretation  of 
which  is  either  an  arbitrary  fancy  or  a  learned  science. 

The  Apostolic  Fathers  are  almost  equally  absurd  in  their 
exegesis  ;  but  they  propound  no  theory  of  inspiration. 
Justin  Martyr  is  the  first  to  use  the  figure  of  a  man  playing 
on  a  harp,  which  he  says,  is  like  the  manner  in  which  the 
Divine  Spirit  uses  righteous  men,  to  make  what  sound  he 
will.^  The  use  of  allegory  was  first  elaborated  (with  reference 
to  Christian  literature)  by  the  Gnostics,  and  is  opposed  by 
Tertullian.  But  it  took  firm  root  in  Alexandria  ;  and  this 
was  one  of  the  most  characteristic  differences  between  the 
Alexandrian  school  and  that  of  Antioch  which  discouraged 
allegorism.  Irenaeus  advocates  the  most  mechanical 
view  of  inspiration;  Tertullian  lays  more  stress  on  the 
character  of  the  medium  chosen.^  Origen's  principles  of 
exegesis  permit  him  to  acknowledge  many  discrepancies 
in  the  New  Testament.  There  are  many  incidents  in 
the  Gospel,  he  says  plainly,  which  are  not  literally  true. 
As  the  evolution  of  Catholicism  proceeded,  the  authority 
of  the  Church,  and  of  the  '  tradition '  guarded  by  the 
Church,  grew  steadily  at  the  expense  of  the  Bible.  The 
authority  of  the  latter  was  not  disputed,  but  it  was 
ignored ;  the  majority  had  small  opportunities  of  even 
knowing  what  the  Scriptures  contained.  The  Schoolmen 
improved  upon  Origen's  allegorism  by  finding  a  fourfold 
sense  in  Holy  Scripture — Hteral,  moral,  allegorical,  and 
anagogical.  Their  subservience  to  Patristic  exegesis  is  quite 
Talmudic.  Alcuin  says  that  he  has  written  '  cautissimo  stylo 
providens  ne  quid  contrarium  Patrum  sensibus  porter  em. ^ 

So  matters  stood  when  the  Reformation  came.  By  the 
Reformers  allegorism  was  attacked  at  once,  especially  in 
England.    Tyndale    writes    very    sensibly :     '  We    may 

1  Athenagoras,  Leg.  9,  uses  the  same  figure.  Hippolytus,  too,  retains  it» 
but  guards  it  against  the  error  that  the  prophet  loses  his  senses  while  under 
inspiration. 

2  Cf.  Bethune  Baker,  Chnstian  Doctrine,  p.  46. 


VII.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  HI 

borrow  similitudes  or  allegories  from  the  Scriptures,  and 
apply  them  to  our  purposes  ;  which  allegories  are  no 
sense  of  the  Scriptures,  but  free  things  besides  the 
Scriptures  altogether  in  the  liberty  of  the  Spirit.  Such 
allegory  proveth  nothing  ;  it  is  a  mere  simile.  God  is  a 
Spirit,  and  all  His  words  are  spiritual,  and  His  literal 
sense  is  spiritual.'  ^  So  Colet  says  :  '  The  New  Testament 
has  for  the  most  part  the  sense  that  appears  on  the  surface  ; 
nor  is  one  thing  said  and  another  meant,  but  the  very 
thing  is  meant  which  is  said,  and  the  sense  is  wholly 
hteral.' 

In  Germany,  Luther  also  pronounced  against  allegorism, 
and  with  his  habitual  intemperance  of  language  described 
allegory  as  mere  '  monkey- tricks,'  '  dirt '  or  '  scum.'  We 
may  follow  St.  Paul's  example,  he  says,  and  occasionally 
use  allegories  as  spangles  and  pretty  ornaments,  but 
that  is  all. 

This  return  to  sane  methods  of  interpretation  was 
dearly  purchased.  The  allegorical  method  had  become 
very  futile  in  the  hands  of  the  schoolmen  ;  but  for  Origen 
it  was  a  means  of  accommodation  by  which  moral  and 
other  difficulties  in  Holy  Scripture  could  be  set  aside. 
The  theory  of  verbal  inspiration  was  far  less  difficult 
under  medieval  Catholicism  than  for  a  modem  Pro- 
testant, for  the  literal  sense  could  be  disregarded  in 
favour  of  some  fanciful,  but  edifying  interpretation. 
The  combination  of  the  literal  sense  with  verbal  in- 
spiration first  appeared  at  the  Reformation ;  ^  and  it 
has  been  the  great  weakness  of  Protestantism  ever  since. 
Of  course,  the  system  could  not  be  consistently  applied. 
Luther  himself,  very  naturally  but  very  inconsistently, 
introduced  a  new  allegorism.  His  six  rules  of  hermen- 
eutics  are  : — (1)  necessity  of  grammatical  knowledge ; 
(2)  importance   of   taking   into    consideration  times   and 

1  Farrar,  History  of  Inter/)retaHon,  p.  300. 

*  Cf.  Hamack,  History  of  Dogma,  vol.  vii.  p.  247. 


112  FAITH  [oh. 

circumstances ;     (So     St.    Augustine    says    very    well : 

*  distingue  tempora  et  concordabis  Scripturas.')  (3)  neces- 
sity of  observing  the  context ;  (4)  need  of  Faith  and 
spiritual  illumination  ;  (5)  need  of  keeping  the  '  proportion 
of  Faith  '  ;  (6)  all  Scripture  must  be  explained  with  refer- 
ence to  Christ.^  This  last  canon  comes  in  very  oddly,  and 
necessitates  feats  of  exegesis  that  are  quite  worthy  of  Philo, 
Origen,  or  the  Rabbis.  Even  so,  he  could  not  find  Christ 
equally  in  all  the  books  ;  and  in  consequence  he  adopted  a 
very  bold  tone  in  respect  to  some  of  them,  not  only  refusing 
to  believe  that  Solomon  wrote  the  Canticles,  but  stigma- 

^  tising  St.  James  as  '  a  right  strawy  epistle.'  TLe  Apoca- 
lypse he  believed  not  to  be  inspired,  and  Jude  to  be  a  late 
second-hand  document.  This  fearless  criticism  contrasts 
oddly  with  his  reverence  for  the  letter  of  Scripture,^  and 
points  to  the  construction  of  a  new  Canon,  composed  on 
critical  grounds.  The  Pentateuch  he  of  course  accepted, 
but  doubted  the  Mosaic  authorship,  and  regarded  this  part 
of  the  Bible  as  of  very  little  authority  for  Christians.  '  We 
will  neither  see  nor  hear  Moses  ;  for  Moses  was  only  given 
to  the  Jewish  people,  and  does  not  concern  us  Gentiles  and 
Christians.'  In  fact,  we  can  only  describe  Luther's  atti- 
tude towards  the  Scriptures  as  a  mass  of  inconsistencies. 
His  theory  of  inspiration  was  mainly  a  residuum  of  his 
Catholic  training.  On  the  other  hand,  his  view  of  Faith 
is  really  independent  of  this  belief, (being  based  on  the 
subjective  assurance  of  the  Christian  consciousness\  This 
consciousness  is  therefore  a  parallel  authority  with  the 
Scriptures.  The  Word  of  God  is  to  be  found  partly  in  the 
Bible,  partly  in  the  consciousness  of  the  Christian.  He 
really  cares  little  for  any  part  of  the  Bible  which  cannot  be 

*  referred  to  Christ.' 

Calvin  is  a  much  greater  expositor  than  Luther  ;  but  his 

1  Farrar,  p.  332. 

*  *  One  letter  of  Scripture,'  he  said,  *  is  of  more  consequence  than  heaven  or 
earth.' 


VII.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  113 

view  of  the  authority  of  Scripture  is  even  more  ambiguous. 
He  seems  to  admit  of  no  difference  in  value  between  the 
various  parts  of  Scripture,  while  at  the  same  time  he  asserts 
verbal  inspiration,  and  yet  rejects  with  scorn  the  whole 
ceremonial  law. 

Meanwhile,  the  Council  of  Trent  was  defining  its  theory 
of  Inspiration.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  up  to  this 
time  the  Canon  had  never  been  fixed.  Not  only  were  the 
books  of  the  Apocrypha  included  in  the  Old  Testament,  in 
disagreement  with  the  Hebrew  Canon,  to  which  the  Re- 
formers reverted,  but  other  books,  such  as  the  Shepherd 
of  Hermas,  were  included  in  some  manuscripts  in  use.  The 
Council  rejected  these,  but  rehabilitated  the  Apocrypha, 
and  declared  that  Hebrews  was  written  by  St.  Paul.  With 
regard  to  the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture,  the  Council 
declared  :  '  That  truth  and  discipline  are  contained  in  the 
books  of  Scripture  and  in  unwritten  traditions,  which, 
having  been  received  from  Christ's  own  lips  by  the  Apostles, 
or  transmitted  as  it  were  manually  by  the  Apostles  them- 
selves, under  the  dictation  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  have  come 
down  to  us.'  Thus  Scripture  and  tradition  are  put  side 
by  side  as  parallel  authorities.  This  was  a  new  thing,  and 
was  no  doubt  devised  to  defeat  the  Protestants.  The 
authority  of  the  Church  is  not  mentioned  in  this  sentence, 
but  assuredly  is  not  forgotten.  It  was  enacted  that  '  every 
one  shall  be  obliged  to  adhere  to  the  sense  of  Holy  Scripture 
to  which  the  holy  mother  Church  adheres,  to  whom  it 
belongs  to  judge  of  the  true  sense  and  interpretation  of 
Holy  Scripture,  and  no  one  shall  dare  to  set  himself  up 
against  the  unanimous  consent  of  the  Fathers.'  It  was  not 
said  how  the  opinion  of  mother  Church  is  to  be  arrived  at : 
the  time  was  not  come  for  openly  proclaiming  that  the 
Pcpe  is  the  Church. 

The  history  of  the  Roman  Church  since  the  Reformation 
has  been  a  record  of  the  constantly  growing  weight  ascribed 
to  tradition,  at  the  expense  of  the  written  word.    A  fully 

H 


114  FAITH  [CH. 

developed  traditionalism  has  no  need  of  an  inspired  book, 
which  might,  indeed,  have  been  very  inconvenient  but  for 
the  prerogative  claimed  by  the  Church,  that  is,  by  the  Pope 
and  his  Council,  of  interpreting  the  Bible  exactly  as  they 
pleased,  free  from  any  questioning  of  their  decisions.  But 
this  gift  of  infallible  interpretation  is  not  often  needed, 
for  the  Scriptures  are  too  Uttle  known,  and  too  Uttle  valued, 
in  the  modem  Roman  Church,  to  enter  into  serious  com- 
petition with  Catholic  tradition.  - 

^^  It  might  be  supposed  that  the  Roman  Church  would 
have  seen  and  utiHsed  the  immense  advantage  which  their 
system  possesses,  as  compared  with  those  of  the  Protestant 
bodies,  in  being  independent  of  any  theory  of  inspiration. 
It  might  be  supposed  that  they  would  have  granted  to 
their  students  a  liberty  in  dealing  with  problems  of  Biblical 
criticism  greater  than  has  been  generally  conceded  in 
Protestant  Churches  ;  and  that  they  would  thus  have  been 
able  to  claim  that  Catholicism,  on  this  side,  puts  far  less 
strain  on  the  intellect  than  orthodox  Protestantism.  They 
might  have  taken  this  course  without  in  any  way  endanger- 
ing the  real  foundations  on  which  the  authority  of  their 
system  rests.  Such,  however,  has  not  been  their  policy. 
Since  the  accession  of  the  present  Pope,  the  most  uncritical 
notions  about  the  Bible  have  been  reaffirmed  and  made 
binding  on  all  Catholics.  The  books  of  the  Bible,  it  is 
declared,  were  all  written  by  their  traditional  authors. 
The  Pentateuch  did  not  gradually  grow  into  its  present 
form.  The  Patristic  expositors  were  superior  in  learning 
and  piety,  and  in  their  methods  of  exegesis,  to  the  scholars 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  No  concession  whatever  is 
made  to  '  Modernism  '  on  this  side,  any  more  than  on  any 
other. 

The  Pope's  advisers  are  perhaps  not  so  ill-advised  as 
most  EngUshmen  think.  The  expostulations  of  the  intellect 
have  already  been  so  thoroughly  trampled  on  in  that  Church 
that  a  small  additional  burden  is  not  worth  considering ; 


VII.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  115 

while  if  Liberalism  is  allowed  to  gain  a  foothold  anywhere, 
it  may  be  difficult  in  the  future  to  say,  '  Thus  far  shalt  thou 
go  and  no  further.'  In  any  case  the  result  is  that  in  the 
Roman  Church,  though  no  independent  authority  remains 
to  the  Scriptures,  its  members  are  tied  to  an  even  more 
rigid  and  irrational  theory  of  inspiration  than  that  which 
has  prevailed  in  the  Reformed  Churches. 

Among  the  German  Protestants  the  comparative  free- 
dom of  Luther's  own  teaching  about  the  Bible  soon  gave 
way  to  an  iron,  or  wooden,  scholasticism.  In  their  contro- 
versy with  Rome  they  needed  a  rival  oracle,  and  found  it 
in  the  Bible.  Bibliolatry  was  soon  in  full  flood.  To  speak 
of  solecisms  in  the  style  of  the  New  Testament  writers  was 
blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  Hellenistic  Greek 
was  not  poor  Greek  ;  it  was  holy  Greek — a  form  of  speech 
peculiar  to  God.^  The  vowel  points  and  accents  of  the 
Hebrew  Bible  were  directly  inspired.  Not  a  single  word 
of  the  Gospel  narrative  comes  short  of  absolute  accuracy. 
Moreover,  magical  powers  came  to  be  attributed  to  the 
Bible.  Just  as  some  humanists  had  consulted  scyrtes 
Vergiliance,  so  both  the  Wesley  brothers  advocated  this 
mode  of  divination  with  a  Bible  when  in  difficulty. 

The  Lutheran  mystics,  Frank  and  Weigel,  protested  in 
vain  against  this  bibliolatry.  '  It  is  an  abuse  and  super- 
stition,' says  Frank,  '  to  treat  Scripture  as  every  one  is  in 
the  habit  of  doing,  to  make  it  into  an  oracle,  as  though  we 
were  no  longer  to  ask  counsel  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  no  longer 
to  resort  to  God  about  anything,  but  only  to  Scripture.' 
And  Weigel  wrote  :  '  Knowledge  must  well  out  from  with- 
in, and  must  not  be  introduced  merely  by  a  book,  for  this 
is  in  vain.  It  is  the  most  mischievous  deception  when  that 
which  is  most  important  is  rejected.  We  put  out  a  person's 
own  eye,  and  then  try  to  persuade  him  that  he  ought  to 
see  with  some  one  else's  eye.'  ^ 

1  Farrar,  p.  374. 

*  Cf .  Pfleiderer,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  i.  p.  11. 


116  FAITH  [cH. 

So  Protestantism  rapidly  fell  back  under  the  tutelage  of 
the  weak  and  beggarly  elements,  and  became,  like  its  rival, 
a  religion  of  authority.  The  nemesis  has  been  severe.  Our 
false  views  of  inspiration  gave  us  many  searchings  of  heart 
during  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  ;  they 
survive  to  cripple  the  usefulness  of  the  noble  Evangelical 
party,  which  in  this  country  still  shows  an  unfortunate 
antipathy  to  modem  Biblical  scholarship  ;  and  they  have 
alienated  an  incalculable  amount  of  devotion  and  energy 
which  ought  to  have  been  at  the  service  of  the  Church. 

The  theory  of  verbal  inspiration  is  indeed  more  incapable 
of  defence  than  the  theory  of  an  infallible  Head  of  the 
Church.  The  writers  of  the  sacred  literature  certainly 
make  no  such  claim  for  themselves  ;  nor  can  their  in- 
errancy be  proved  by  internal  evidence.  The  Bible,  in 
fact,  needs  another  authority  to  guarantee  its  authority  ; 
and  where  can  Protestants  find  such  a  guarantee  ?  In  the 
Roman  Church,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Canon  was  not  finally 
fixed  till  the  Council  of  Trent,  and  the  Vatican  now  is 
content  to  enjoin  the  acceptance  of  current  traditions  as 
to  authorship,  etc.,  with  a  contemptuous  disregard  for  the 
weight  of  evidence.  In  earlier  times  it  was  necessary  to 
use  one's  private  judgment,  giving  due  weight  to  authority. 
Augustine  says  :  '  In  regard  to  the  Canonical  Scriptures 
let  him  follow  the  authority  of  as  many  as  possible  of  the 
Catholic  Churches,  among  which,  of  course,  are  those 
which  are  of  Apostolic  foundation,  or  were  thought  worthy 
of  having  Epistles  addressed  to  them.  He  will  therefore 
follow  this  rule  as  to  the  Canonical  Scriptures,  to  prefer 
those  which  are  accepted  by  all  the  Catholic  Churches  to 
those  which  are  accepted  only  by  some  ;  and  among  those 
which  are  not  accepted  by  all  to  prefer  those  which  the 
greater  and  morj  important  Churches  accept  to  those 
which  are  accepted  by  fewer  Churches,  or  those  of  less 
authority.'  ^  At  this  period,  authenticity  was  rightly  re- 
*  Augustine,  De  Doctr.  Christi,  ii.  p.  8. 


I 


I 


AUTHOKITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  117 

garded  as  of  small  moment.  Jerome  says  that  it  does  not 
matter  who  wrote  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  since  in  any 
case  it  is  the  work  of  a  Church- writer,  and  is  constantly 
read  in  the  Churches.^  The  acceptance  or  rejection  of 
doubtful  books  was  largely  determined  by  their  agreement 
or  disagreement  with  the  beliefs  of  the  Church,  and  with 
undisputed  Canonical  writings. 

The  Reformers  could  not  accept  the  living  Catholic 
Church  as  the  authority  for  Biblical  inspiration,  nor  did  it 
occur  to  them  to  have  recourse  to  the  verdict  of  the  un- 
divided Church — that  distinctively  Anglican  theory.  To 
judge  the  Bible  '  like  any  other  book  '  would  have  been  fatal 
to  the  position  in  which  they  wished  to  place  it,  as  an 
oracle  to  be  obeyed  without  question.  Accordingly,  they 
fell  back,  for  the  most  part,  on  what  they  called  the  testi- 
monium Spiritus  Sancti,  which  for  them  was  not  the  voice 
of  the  Church,  but  the  feeling  of  assurance  and  comfort 
awakened  in  the  heart  of  the  believer  by  the  perusal  of  the 
sacred  pages.  The  Westminster  Confession  thus  states 
the  grounds  for  believing  in  the  authority  of  Scripture : 
*  We  may  be  moved  and  induced  by  the  testimony  of  the 
Church  to  a  high  and  reverent  esteem  of  Holy  Scripture,  and 
the  heavenliness  of  the  matter,  the  efficacy  of  the  doctrine, 
the  majesty  of  the  style,  the  consent  of  all  the  parts,  the 
scope  of  the  whole  (which  is  to  give  glory  to  God),  the  full 
discovery  it  makes  of  the  only  way  of  man's  salvation, 
the  many  other  incomparable  excellences,  and  the  entire 
perfection  thereof,  are  arguments  whereby  it  doth  abun- 
dantly evidence  itself  to  be  the  Word  of  God  ;  yet  notwith- 
standing, our  full  persuasion  and  assurance  of  the  infallible 
truth  and  divine  authority  thereof  is  from  the  inward 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  bearing  witness  by  and  with  the 
word  in  our  hearts.' 

Now  this  is  an  admirable  statement  of  what  revelation 
through  the  Bible  really  is.     The  '  testimony  of  the  Holy 

1  Sanday,  Inspiration,  p.  52. 


118  FAITH  [CH. 

Spirit '  is  the  response  of  our  inmost  personality  to  the 
external  stimulus  supplied  by  the  inspired  literature.  This 
testimony  I  have  argued  to  be  the  primary  ground  of 
Faith.  It  is  '  God  working  in  us,'  and  working  through 
concrete  experiences  of  various  kinds,  as  it  appears  that  He 
always  does  work.  But  this  is  not  a  theory  of  inspiration 
which  can  either  erect  Scripture  into  an  oracle  for  deter- 
mining off-hand  difficult  matters  of  conduct,  or  which  can 
cut  the  knot  of  critical  problems.  The  Holy  Spirit  testifies 
that  the  character  and  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ  are  divine, 
and  that  we  may  follow  Him  and  believe  in  Him  with 
perfect  confidence.  It  certainly  does  not  testify  that  the 
Mosaic  account  of  creation  is  scientifically  correct,  or  that 
the  book  of  Daniel  was  written  in  the  sixth  century  B.C. 

The  theory  of  a  written  oracle  is,  in  fact,  another  instance 
of  the  almost  universal  tendency  to  arrest  the  normal 
development  of  Faith  at  a  certain  point.  We  need  a  light 
to  show  us  our  way,  and  it  is  granted  to  us ;  but  then, 
instead  of  using  it,  we  shut  our  eyes  and  ask  to  be  led  like 
blind  men.  Clement  saw  this  very  clearly  when  he  defined 
Faith  as  o-vito/xos  yvioa-is,  and  spoke  of  it  as  an  expedient 
for  *  men  in  a  hurry.'  That  definition  would  disparage 
Faith,  if  he  had  not  added  that  knowledge  is  ttio-tk 
iirKTTrjfioviKTJ.  It  is  true  that  we  must  act  before  we  know, 
but  knowledge  will  come  by  acting,  if  we  keep  our  eyes 
open.  If  Faith  meant  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  magic,  it 
would  not  lead  to  knowledge. 

The  theory  of  verbal  Inspiration  is  essentially  static.  It 
assumes  that  revelation  is  permanent  only  in  its  effects. 
Also,  it  admits  of  no  degrees  in  inspiration.  Nothing  can 
be  more  contrary  either  to  the  modem  way  of  reading 
history,  or  to  the  opening  words  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  :  '  God,  having  of  old  time  spoken  unto  the 
fathers  in  the  prophets  by  divers  portions  and  in  divers 
manners,  hath  at  the  end  of  these  days  spoken  unto  us  in 
His  Son.*     Revelation  is  gradual,  progressive,  and  admits  of 


AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  119 

degrees.  It  is  personal.  It  is  given  through  men  who  are 
able  to  receive  it,  and  in  proportion  as  they  are  able  to 
receive  it.  Prophecy  is  conditioned  by  the  spiritual 
capacity  of  the  prophet,  not  by  the  arbitrary  choice  of  God, 
selecting  no  matter  whom  as  His  mouthpiece.  The  true 
prophet  is  not  inspired  when  in  a  state  of  frenzy  or  ecstasy, 
like  the  Delphic  oracle.  (We  find  in  the  early  Church  a 
very  decided  dislike  of  ecstatic  prophecy  ;  it  is  discouraged 
already  by  St.  Paul.)  The  inspired  man  is  he  who  sees  the 
world — the  world  of  his  own  knowledge  and  experience — 
more  nearly  as  God  sees  it  than  other  men  do.  He  inter- 
prets events  according  to  their  deepest  meaning.  We  may 
say,  if  we  choose,  that  he  sees  what  he  sees  suh  specie 
aeternitatis.  He  certainly  so  interprets  what  to  him  is  the 
present  as  to  throw  a  flood  of  light  on  what  to  him  is  the 
future.  But  plenary  inspiration  has  never  been  given  to 
any  mere  man.  Inspired  writers  see  further  into  the  nature 
of  things  than  other  men  ;  but  they  have  their  limitations. 
The  reporters  of  Jesus  Christ  are  obviously  unable  to  under- 
stand all  that  He  wished  to  impart ;  He  is  driven  again 
and  again  to  remonstrate  with  those  who  heard  Him. 
'  0  fools  and  slow  of  heart !  '  '  Are  ye  so  without  under- 
standing ?  '  We  are  driven  every  now  and  then  to  criticise 
even  the  Gospels  from  themselves,  or  rather  from  our  know- 
ledge of  Christ  and  His  Gospel ;  e.g.  it  is  not  likely  that, 
after  declining  to  give  the  *  sign '  which  the  multitude 
demanded.  He  at  once  proceeded  to  refer  to  Jonah  and  the 
whale,  and  promised  to  give  them  a  sign  of  the  same  order. 
It  is  not  likely  that  He  ever  said,  '  Tell  it  unto  the  Church,' 
when  no  Church  existed.  He  can  hardly  have  used  the 
expression,  *  From  the  days  of  John  the  Baptist  until  now,' 
when  He  Himself  lived  in  the  days  of  John  the  Baptist. 
No  ;  there  is  no  infallibility  of  this  kind  about  the  sacred 
records.  The  men  were  inspired,  but  they  were  not  raised 
above  the  intellectual  limitations  of  their  times  and  of 
their  own  endowments.     Christ  never  intended  to  shut  up 


120  FAITH  [CH. 

His  Gospel  in  a  book.  The  Spirit  of  Truth  was  to  be  the 
main  factor  in  the  Faith  of  the  Church.  He  was  to  inter- 
pret and  call  to  remembrance  the  deposit  of  oral  teaching 
enshrined  in  the  Gospels,  but  also  to  develop  it  in  a  manner 
which  would  have  been  uninteUigible  to  the  first  disciples. 
The  Christian  view  of  inspiration,  so  long  as  it  is  true  to  the 
intentions  of  Christ,  is  dynamic  ;  and  this  involves  a 
continuous  moral  and  intellectual  activity  on  the  part  of 
those  who  receive  the  revelation. 

Revelation  and  inspiration  are  the  same  thing  viewed 
from  different  standpoints.^  Revelation  is  the  word  we 
use  when  we  view  the  matter  from  the  side  of  God,  inspira- 
tion when  we  view  it  from  the  side  of  man.^  And  both 
must  be  regarded  as  living,  active  processes.  It  is  not 
possible  to  receive  revelation  passively,  whether  it  comes 
through  a  book  or  in  any  other  manner.  And  in  order  to 
receive  it  actively,  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  it  our  own 
and  respond  to  it,  we  must  bring  to  it  the  best  of  ourselves, 
the  reasonable  service  of  all  our  faculties.  The  more 
certain  we  are  that  the  revelation  is  divine,  the  more 
convinced  we  ought  to  be  that  it  makes  an  exacting  demand 
upon  us  to  understand  and  profit  by  it.  God  does  not 
throw  His  best  gifts  at  our  heads,  nor  does  He  give  us  any- 
thing to  save  us  the  trouble  of  finding  it.  At  the  same 
time,  we  are  not  given  conundrums  to  guess  in  matters  of 
vital  importance.  We  may  accept  Chrysostom's  maxim 
{Comm.  in  2  Thess.)  that  '  all  necessary  things  are  clear  * 
(Trai'Ta  ra  dvayKala  8yj\a),  though  certainly  not  the  pre- 
ceding word  that  *  everything  in  Scripture  is  clear  and 
straightforward.'  And  we  shall  miss  much  if  we  are 
satisfied   with  the  *  plain,  necessary  things.'    Erasmus's 

1  Gwatkin,  The  Knmuledge  of  God,  vol.  i.  p.  168. 

•  Dr.  Fairbairn,  Christ  in  Modern  Theology,  p.  496  seq.,  reverses  this. 
*God  inspires,  man  reveals.  Inspiration  is  the  process  by  which  God  gives ; 
revelation  is  the  mode  or  form  in  which  man  embodies  what  he  has  received.' 
This  is  to  use  '  revelation '  in  a  forced  and  unusual  sense,  which  even  the 
authority  of  Martineau  can  hardly  justify. 


I 


I 


VII.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  121 

advice  for  the  study  of  the  Bible  is  good.  '  Adsit  pia 
curiositas  et  curiosa  pietas.' 

The  desire  for  an  infaUible  guide  is  so  strong  in  the 
human  heart  that  it  often  causes  distress  and  disappoint- 
ment to  show  that  the  inspired  records  were  drawn  up  by 
falhble  human  beings  ;  that  the  selection  of  the  Canonical 
Books  was  made  by  fallible  men,  who,  in  certain  cases  in 
the  Old  Testament,  and  in  at  least  one  case  (that  of  2 
Peter)  in  the  New  Testament,  appear  to  have  been  deceived 
by  documents  which  claimed  a  greater  antiquity  and 
authority  than  they  possess ;  and  lastly  that  unless 
the  reader  of  the  Bible  is  also  infallible  and  miraculously 
protected  against  human  infirmity,  there  is  no  guarantee 
that  he  may  not  entirely  misunderstand  what  he  reads. 
But  those  who  feel  distress  cannot  have  understood  the 
nature  of  Faith.  An  infallible  oracle  would  destroy  the 
possibihty  of  Faith,  or  at  least  would  finally  arrest  its 
growth  at  the  point  where  the  revelation  was  made.  The 
'  Bible  of  the  race  '  ^  is  not  yet  fully  written  ;  and  our 
powers  of  understanding  all  that  is  aheady  written  are 
limited.  And  we  must  not  forget  that  an  exaggerated 
view  of  the  infallibility  of  Holy  Writ  depresses  and  de- 
prives of  authority  all  the  other  channels  through  which 
we  are  justified  in  believing  that  the  divine  will  is  made 
known  to  us.  I  do  not  refer  only-  to  the  writings  of  great 
and  good  men  outside  the  Canon,  and  even  outside  the 
Christian  Church,  to  whom  a  minor  degree  of  inspiration 
may  be  attributed  without  any  disrespect  to  the  Bible, 
but  to  divine  revelation  through  science,  through  art, 
through  the  beauties  of  nature,  through  the  course  of 
history,  and  so  forth.  Make  any  one  of  these  infalHble 
and  exclusive,  and  the  rest  lose  their  value. 

Our  conclusion  then  is,  that,  as  in  the  case  of  the  infallible 
Church,  so  in  the  case  of  the  infallible  Book,  the  attempt 
to  make  authority  a  primary  ground  of  Faith  has  failed. 
*  Lowell :  *  Slowly  the  Bible  of  the  race  is  writ.' 


122  FAITH  [CH. 

Revelation  and  inspiration,  being  really  two  aspects  of 
t  he  same  process,  can  never  be  separated  from  each  other. 
Revelation,  like  inspiration,  is  a  process,  not  a  static  con- 
dition. There  are  adequate  reasons  for  putting  the  Bible 
in  a  class  by  itself,  above  all  other  books  ;  but  not  for 
regarding  it  as  the  primary  ground  of  Faith.  The  only 
word  that  our  Lord  ever  wrote,  so  far  as  we  know,  was 
traced  with  His  finger  on  the  unrecording  ground.  It  was 
not  His  will  that  His  religion  should  be,  like  Islam,  the 
religion  of  a  book.  He  wrote  His  message  on  the  hearts 
of  a  few  faithful  men,  where  it  was  not  to  be  imprisoned 
in  Hebrew  or  Greek  characters,  but  was  to  germinate 
like  a  seed  in  fruitful  soil.  'The  words  which  I  have 
spoken  to  you,'  says  the  Johannine  Christ,  *  they  are  spirit 
and  they  are  Hfe.' 

The  office  of  authority  in  religion  is  essentially  educa- 
tional. Like  every  good  teacher,  it  should  labour  to  make 
itself  superfluous.  The  instructor  should  not  rest  content 
till  his  pupil  says,  '  Now  I  believe,  not  on  thy  saying,  but 
because  I  see  and  know  for  myself.' 

Theology  is  the  most  conservative  of  the  sciences,  and 
among  other  tendencies  of  bygone  days  it  has  retained 
a  timid  and  superstitious  reverence  for  the  written  word, 
whether  it  be  text  or  commentary.  Too  many  theologians 
persist  in  looking  back,  though  the  people  are  looking  for- 
ward. They  look  back,  and  they  pay  the  penalty  for  doing 
so,  like  Lot's  wife.  The  deserts  of  theological  literature  are 
strewn  with  these  dreary  pillars  of  salt.  Commentaries 
on  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  full  of  palpably  absurd 
explanations  borrowed  from  the  Fathers  ;  books  on  dog- 
matic theology  constructed  on  the  same  principles  ;  anxious 
researches  into  the  liturgies  and  ritual  of  the  Middle  Ages 
with  a  view  to  careful  imitation — all  alike  show  how 
potent  the  dead  hand  is  in  matters  of  religion.  The 
scribe  who  is  instructed  to  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  said 
our  Lord,  is  like  a  householder   who   brings   out  of  his 


1_ 

■ 


VII.]  AUTHORITY  AS  A  GROUND  OF  FAITH  123 

treasure  things  new  and  old.  The  wise  scribe  does  not, 
however,  bring  forth  some  things  that  are  new  and  other 
things  that  are  old,  but  he  gives  a  new  life  to  things 
that  are  old  (for  indeed  we  cannot  truly  beUeve  in 
our  authority  unless  we  believe  with  it — the  truth 
must  be  bom  anew  in  the  heart  of  every  behever), 
and  he  discerns  the  ancient,  eternal  truth  of  what  seems  to 
be  new.  In  part,  our  objection  to  orthodox  dogmatism 
is  that  it  does  not  go  back  far  enough.  '  Res  ipsa,  quae 
nunc  Christiana  religio  nuncupatur,  erat  apud  antiques, 
nee  defuit  ah  initio  generis  humani,  quousque  ipse  Christus 
veniret  in  came,  unde  vera  religio,  quae  iam  erat,  coepit 
appellari  Christiana."^  ^ 

The  ultimate  authority,  which  alone  is  infallible,  is  the 
eternal  and  living  Truth. 

1  Aogastine,  Retract,  i.  13,  9, 


124  FAITH  fcH. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS   CHRIST 

We  have  discussed  two  great  historic  attempts  to  make 
Faith  rest  on  external  authority.  We  have  investigated 
'  the  claims  of  the  infallible  Church  and  of  the  infallible 
'1  Book,  and  have  found  them  both  defective.  At  the  same 
time  we  have  found  that  each  contains  a  true  principle. 
The  authority  of  the  Church,  rightly  understood,  is  the 
authority  of  the  redeemed  race,  the  elect — the  stored 
spiritual  experience  of  humanity.  The  authority  of  the 
Book,  rightly  understood,  is  the  authority  of  the  records 
of  revelation,  the  testimony  of  those  who  have  been  in- 
spired, to  whom  truth  has  been  revealed.  Neither 
authority  is,  or  can  be,  absolute  or  infalUble ;  for  there 
is  no  way  of  escape  from  the  objection  that  an  infallible 
authority  requires  infallibility  in  the  recipient  as  well 
as  in  the  author  of  the  revelation.  If  such  infalUbility 
were  in  the  possession  of  any  man  or  any  institution,  there 
would  be  no  room  for  Faith. 

My  subject  in  these  lectures  is  Faith,  not  the  Christian 
Faith.  But  I  have  naturally  taken  my  examples  from 
our  own  religion,  and  as  my  aim  in  choosing  this  subject 
is  not  purely  speculative,  but  also  practical,  I  have  felt 
no  scruple  in  approaching  each  department  of  it  mainly 
from  the  side  which  is  familiar  to  thoughtful  persons  in 
our  own  age  and  country.  And  having  said  so  much 
about  the  Catholic  Church  and  the  Bible,  as  the  alleged 
seats  of  authority  in  matters  of  Faith,  I  feel  that  I  cannot 


VIII.]         AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  125 

leave  the  subject  without  considering,  however  cursorily 
and  inadequately,  what  for  very  many  Christians,  and  in 
a  sense  for  all  Christians,  is  the  ultimate  court  of  appeal, 
viz.  neither  the  Church  nor  the  Bible  as  a  whole,  but  the 
recorded  utterances  of  Jesus  Christ,  and,  in  matters  of 
conduct,  what  those  records  tell  us  of  His  example  and 
character. 

I  shall  maintain  that  there  is  a  sense  in  which  every 
Christian  must  own  the  authority  of  Christ  as  the  primary 
ground  of  his  faith.  It  is  not  enough  even  to  say  that 
Christ  is  our  primary  authority,  leaving  it  open  to  admit 
other  grounds  of  Faith  besides  authority.  But  it  will  be 
necessary  to  explain  how  this  is  consistent  with  my  thesis 
that  the  primary  ground  of  Faith  is  an  instinct  or  faculty 
which  impels  us  to  seek  and  find  God.  We  must  also 
remember  that,  in  connecting  the  name  of  Christ  with  what 
is  primary  and  essential  in  Faith,  we  must  be  careful  not 
to  do  less  than  justice  to  what  is  true  and  spiritual  and 
genuinely  religious  in  non-Christian  ages  and  countries,  and 
in  high-minded  Agnostics  among  ourselves.  I  hope,  before 
the  end  of  these  lectures,  to  deal  with  both  these  difficulties. 

What  kind  of  authority  did  Christ  Himself  claim,  so  far 
as  we  can  judge  from  the  Gospels  ?  We  know  that  it  was 
a  distinguishing  feature  of  His  teaching,  that  He  taught '  as 
one  having  authority,  and  not  as  the  Scribes.'  The  doctrine 
of  the  Scrit^es  was  founded  on  documents,  traditions, 
responsa  prudentum  ;  that  of  Christ  was  fresh  from  the 
mint ;  it  wasifall  at  first  hand,  clean-cut  and  unhesitating. 
He  also  required  that  His  disciples  should  adopt  a  definite 
attitude  towards  His  Person.  They  were  to  '  take  up  the 
cross  and  follow  Him.'  For  His  sake  and  the  Gospel's, 
they  were  to  be  ready  to  sacrifice  all  earthly  goods,  and 
life  itself.  They  were  never  to  be  ashamed  of  Him  and 
His  words,  on  pain  of  bemg  disowned  at  the  great  day. 
An  action  done  in  His  name  is  meritorious  ;  a  friendly  act 
done  to  Him  has  the  same  value  as  an  act  done  for  God 


126  FAITH  [CH. 

Himself,  who  sent  Him.  That  man  is  blessed,  who  shall 
not  be  offended  in  Him.  He  is  the  stone  on  whom  whoso- 
ever shall  fall  shall  be  broken,  and  on  whomsoever  it  shall 
fall,  it  shall  scatter  him  as  chaff.  These  sayings  are  all 
from  the  Sjmoptics.  In  the  Fourth  Gospel  this  personal 
claim  is  even  more  dominant  and  all-embracing. 

In  His  teaching  He  calmly  sets  aside  even  the  revered 
law  of  Moses  in  one  particular  after  another.  '  Ye  have 
heard  that  it  was  said  to  them  of  old  time  .  .  .  but  I  say 
unto  you ' — something  quite  different.  '  Ye  call  Me 
Master  and  Lord,  and  ye  say  well,  for  so  I  am,'  He  tells  His 
disciples.  In  spite  of  His  meekness  and  gentleness  He 
rebukes  sharply  any  one,  no  matter  whom,  who  presumes  to 
offer  Him  advice.  Two  of  the  severest  rebuffs  recorded  in 
the  Gospels  are  inflicted  upon  His  Mother  and  the  fore- 
most of  His  disciples  for  attempting  to  suggest  to  Him 
what  He  should  do.  So  far  as  we  can  judge  from  our 
records  He  claimed  absolute  obedience,  unquaUfied  trust 
and  confidence.  He  taught  and  acted  '  with  authority ' 
in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word. 

And  yet  there  is  another  side.  In  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
no  less  than  in  the  other  three,  Christ  always  declares  that 
'  the  Word  which  ye  hear  is  not  Mine,  but  the  Father's 
which  sent  Me.'  '  I  came  not  to  do  Mine  own  will,  but  the 
will  of  Him  that  sent  Me.'  It  is,  after  all,  His  cause  rather 
than  His  Person,  the  Revelation  rather  than  the  Revealer, 
on  which  He  desires  to  fix  men's  thoughts,  and  for  which 
He  claims  their  homage.  He  will  resent  no  personal 
affronts,  avenge  no  private  injuries.  The  Samaritan  village 
which  refuses  to  receive  Him  remains  unpunished.  He 
declares  that  a  word  spoken  against  the  Son  of  Man  would 
find  forgiveness  :  it  is  only  blasphemy  against  the  Holy 
Ghost  that  is  unpardonable.  He  never  sought  to  be  any- 
thing of  Himself  as  man,  but  only  as  the  vehicle  of  re- 
demption and  salvation. 

This  combination  of  unlimited  claims  with  unlimited 


VIII.]         AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  127 

self-abnegation  is  the  key  to  the  understanding  of  Christ's 
authority.  He  came  in  the  Father's  name  ;  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  was  to  continue  His  work.  The  former  linked  His 
mission  with  the  past ;  the  latter  with  the  future.  The 
Faith  in  Himself  and  His  Person  which  He  demanded  was 
not  a  homage  which  obliged  the  Jew  to  renounce  his  past, 
nor  the  Gentile  his  future.  He  came  not  to  destroy  the 
Law  and  the  Prophets,  but  to  fulfil  them.  He  placed  Him- 
self in  the  line  of  historical  evolution.  The  law  and  the 
prophets  were  until  John.  At  that  point — with  the  appear- 
ance of  the  last  and  greatest  of  the  prophets,  His  own 
immediate  forerunner — the  old  dispensation  had  fulfilled 
its  historical  task  of  a  TratSaywyos.  The  time  had  now 
arrived  for  humanity  to  come  of  age  and  live  the  freer,  fuller, 
more  responsible  life  of  manhood.  '  Ego  sum  cibus 
grandium,'  as  Augustine  heard  Christ  say  to  him.  But  the 
God  of  the  prophets  was  His  Father,  and  it  was  as  His 
envoy  that  He  came  to  the  people  of  His  choice. 

And  it  is  equally  certain  that  the  Galilean  ministry  was 
not  intended  to  be  the  last  stage  in  God's  active  dealings 
with  men.  Nothing  was  further  from  Christ's  intentions 
than  to  leave  a  code  of  legislation  for  all  future  generations. 
Neither  the  substance  of  His  teaching,  nor  the  manner  in 
which  He  chose  that  it  should  be  transmitted,  is  com- 
patible with  any  such  intention.  His  teaching  lays  down 
all-embracing  principles  ;  it  gives  few  or  no  rules.  The 
difference  between  it  and  the  Old  Testament  legislation 
differs  not  only  in  the  often-noticed  fact  that  the  latter  is 
chiefly  negative  in  form,  the  former  positive.  There  is  an 
even  greater  difference,  in  that  the  Law  is  dead,  the  Gospel 
alive.  The  Law,  like  all  other  sacrosanct  codes,  must  end 
in  cramping  and  fettering  the  growth  of  those  who  are 
subject  to  it.  The  Gospel  looks  forward, ^  and  has  in  itself 
a  principle  of  growth  and  development  which,  so  long  as 

i  This  IS  true,  whatever  views  may  have  been  entertained  by  the  disciples  a» 
to  the  approaching  Parousia. 


128  FAITH  [CH. 

His  Cliurch  was  true  to  itself,  could  never  leave  it  behind 
the  true  progress  of  civilisation  towards  the  realisation  of 
all  the  highest  potentialities  of  mankind.  '  I  have  still 
many  things  to  say  unto  you,  but  ye  cannot  bear  them 
now.  Howbeit,  when  He,  the  Spirit  of  Truth  is  come.  He 
will  guide  you  into  all  truth  ;  for  He  shall  not  speak  of 
Himself ;  but  whatsoever  He  shall  hear,  that  shall  He 
speak  ;   and  He  will  show  you  things  to  come.' 

The  action  of  the  Father,  of  the  Incarnate  Word,  and  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  are  thus  indissolubly  linked  together.  The 
Son  comes  to  reveal  the  Father,  the  Holy  Spirit  to  reveal 
the  Son,  or  the  Father  through  the  Son.  There  is  no 
question  of  a  dynasty  in  three  reigns  ;  but  there  is  a  Trinity 
of  dispensations,  that  of  the  Father  before  the  Incarnation, 
that  of  the  Son  during  the  earthly  life  of  Christ,  that  of 
the  Spirit  ever  since.  The  third  period  may  Justly  be 
called  the  '  reign '  of  the  Son,  but  assuredly  not  as  super- 
seding that  of  the  Father,  nor  as  looking  forward  to  a  later 
reign  of  the  Spirit. 

There  is,  no  doubt,  a  difference  between  the  mode  of 
action  of  the  Incarnate  Christ,  and  that  of  the  Spirit.  The 
former  was  external,  the  latter  internal.  The  Incarnate 
Christ  addressed  Himself  to  all  who  came  in  contact  with 
Him ;  the  Paraclete  is  a  principle  of  spiritual  hfe  in  the 
hearts  of  beUevers,  on  whom  He  acts  directly  and  without 
intermediary.  But  the  New  Testament  writers  are  far  more 
concerned  to  identify  the  indwelling  Spirit  with  the  exalted 
Christ  than  to  separate  them.  Bengel's  words,  *  Conversio 
fit  ad  Dominum  ut  Spiritum,'  are  thoroughly  PauHne.  St. 
Paul  speaks  quite  indifferently  of  the  Spirit,  the  Spirit  of 
God,  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  Christ.  In  one  passage  he 
formally  identifies  the  exalted  Christ  with  the  Spirit,  at 
least  as  regards  their  functions.  'The  Lord  is  the  Spirit ; 
and  where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty.' 

If  we  are  guided  by  the  New  Testament,  we  must  dis- 
possess ourselves  of  the  idea  that  the  Incarnation  came  to 


AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  129 


an  end  within  a  few  weeks  of  our  Lord's  last  Passover  on 
earth.  When  Christ  said,  '  I  will  not  leave  you  orphans, 
I  will  come  to  you,'  He  was  not  using  a  metaphor,  but 
making  a  real  promise.  '  Lo,  I  am  with  you  all  the  days, 
even  to  the  end  of  the  world.' 

You  will  see  at  once  how  this  bears  on  the  question  of  the 
authority  of  Christ  as  a  primary  ground  of  Faith.  To 
those  who  share  the  religious  philosophy  of  St.  Paul  and 
St.  John  there  is  no  difficulty — or  rather,  there  is  an  ab- 
solute necessity — in  identifying  the  mainspring  of  religion 
in  the  heart  of  man  with  the  action  of  the  Second  Person 
of  the  Trinity.  If  any  philosophy  has  a  right  to  call  itself 
the  philosophy  of  the  Christian  religion,  it  is  that  which 
won  the  intellect  of  the  ancient  world  for  Christianity  in 
the  third  and  fourth  centuries,  which  shaped  our  Creeds, 
and  which  has  satisfied  the  deepest  Christian  thinkers  from 
that  time  to  our  own  day.  According  to  this  philosophy,  \ 
there  is  an  unbroken  chain  uniting  the  creative  Logos, 
through  whom  all  things  were  made,  with  the  historical 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and  with  the  mysterious  Power  which 
works  unseen  in  every  human  soul^  The  universe,  as 
Bishop  Westcott  says,  is  the  hymn  of  the  Word  to  the 
glory  of  the  Father.  This  World-Spirit  was  once  incar- 
nated in  a  human  Ufe.  That  Hfe  is  the  expression  of 
the  meaning  of  the  world,  so  far  as  the  meaning  of  the 
world  can  find  expression  in  a  human  life.  Christ  re- 
vealed to  us  that  God  is  the  Father  of  His  creatures  ; 
that  God  is  Light,  Life,  Love,  and  Spirit  (I  will  not  now 
stop  to  draw  out  the  meaning  of  these  pregnant  utter- 
ances) ;  and  above  all.  He  revealed  to  us  in  word  and 
deed  the  law  of  sacrifice,  of  fife  through  death,  which  is'C 
the  master-key  to  the  understanding  of  the  universe.  We 
are  quite  right  in  calling  this  revelation  final ;  but  we  must 
remember  that  it  was  the  inauguration  of  a  new  dispensation 
of  revelation,  not  the  termination  of  an  era  of  direct  divine 
intercourse  with  mankind  ;  and  also  that  this  new  dispensa- 

I 


130  FAITH  [cH. 

tion  is  characterised  by  inwardness — by  the  action  of  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  bearing  witness  with  our  spirit.  The 
primary  ground  of  Faith  may  be  identified  with  the 
authority  of  Christ,  if  by  Christ  we  mean  *  Christ  that  died ; 
nay,  rather  that  is  risen  again.'  It  is  not  strictly  correct 
to  say  that  the  historical  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  whose  mission 
terminated  when  He  ceased  to  walk  and  teach  in  Gahlee 
and  Judaea,  is  the  primary  ground  of  Faith.  To  say  so 
would  be  to  adopt  a  static  and  not  a  dynamic  view  of 
Faith.  It  would  rivet  our  gaze  on  the  past  instead  of  on 
the  future.  It  would  commit  us  to  a  pessimistic  view  of 
the  course  of  history.  It  would  fill  us  with  disquieting 
doubts ;  for  how  can  we  base  our  Faith  on  the  shifting 
sand  of  historical  tradition,  which  leaves  us  at  the  mercy 
of  the  good  faith  of  reporters  about  whom  we  know  little  or 
nothing  ?  Those  who  think  otherwise  are  compelled  to 
choose  between  the  apologetics  of  the  evidential  school, 
of  whose  methods  we  may  surely  say  that  by  them  *  nothing 
worth^  proving  can  be  proven,  nor  yet  disproven  ' — at  any 
rate  within  the  religious  sphere,  or,  as  an  alternative,  they 
must  rest  their  religion  on  the  mere  subjectivity  of  feel- 
ing, which  we  have  found  to  be  so  utterly  inadequate  and 
treacherous  a  ground  for  a  living  Faith. 

I  wish,  however,  to  give  you  as  fair  an  account  as  I  can 
of  the  attempts  which  have  been  made  to  arrest  Faith  at 
this  stage — to  fix  it  as  consisting  of  devotion  to  a  historical 
figure  which  was  finally  withdrawn  from  any  further 
direct  influence  upon  human  affairs  nearly  nineteen  hundred 
years  ago. 

In  speaking  of  the  Lutheran  treatment  of  the  Bible  I 
said  that,  though  Holy  Scripture  as  a  whole  was  elevated 
to  a  primary  authority  in  matters  of  Faith,  the  real  centre 
was  found  in  the  Person  of  Christ,  roimd  which  all  the  Old 
Testament,  as  well  as  the  New,  was  made,  by  forced  and 
unnatural  exegesis,  to  revolve. 

Modem  Lutheranism,  as  represented  by  the  Ritschlian 


VIII.]         AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  131 

school,  does  not  follow  Luther  in  this  new  Scholasticism. 
Indeed,  Ritschl  boldly  affirms  that  '  the  ideas  of  the 
Reformation  were  more  concealed  than  disclosed  in  the 
theological  works  of  Luther  and  Melanchthon.'  But  the 
language  of  Ritschlians  about  the  *  historical  Christ'  is 
very  similar  to  that  of  Luther.  It  is  part  of  their  theory 
that  the  Christian  Church  began  to  go  wrong  from  the  very 
first,  i.e.  as  soon  as  Greek  influences  began  to  modify  the 
Palestinian  gospel.  Forgetful  of  the  essentially  quiet  and 
unemotional  character  of  Christ's  teaching,  they  find  true 
Christianity  in  the  enthusiastic  revivaUsm  of  St.  Paul's 
Corinthian  converts,  and  complain  (as  Hamack  does) 
that  Christianity  was  '  secularised '  when  '  what  made 
the  Christian  a  Christian  was  no  longer  the  possession  of 
charisms,  but  .  .  .  the  performance  of  penance  and  good 
works.'  They  can  see  Httle  but  progressive  decline  be- 
tween St.  Paul  and  the  Reformation,  and  the  Reforma- 
tion, it  appears,  has  never  yet  rightly  understood  itself. 
*  History,'  for  Faith,  begins  and  ends,  according  to  them, 
with  the  ministry  of  Christ  in  Palestine. 

Dislike  of  Greek  metaphysics  has  much  to  do  with  this 
view.  It  is  part  of  the  movement  against  speculative 
intellectualism,  which  swept  over  Germany  and  almost 
destroyed  the  once  tyrannical  power  of  Hegel's  philosophy. 
Of  the  rigorous  moralism  and  theoretical  agnosticism  of 
the  neo-Kantians  I  must  speak  later.  Here  I  wish  to 
consider  only  their  Christology,  and  especially  the  real  sig- 
nificance of  their  maxim,  '  Back  to  the  historical  Christ.' 

It  goes  without  sayiug  that  the  orthodox  Church  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity,  and  of  the  Incarnation  of  the  Eternal  Son, 
is  condemned  by  this  school  as  part  of  Greek  metaphysics. 
They  do  not  object  to  our  speaking  of  the  '  Godhead  '  of 
Christ,  if  we  add  that  this  statement  is  only  a  judgment  of 
value,  not  of  fact.  (I  shall  discuss  the  validity  of  this  anti- 
thesis in  a  later  lecture.)  This  is  no  arbitrary  view ;  it  belongs 
to  the  logic  of  the  system.     If  metaphysics,  that  is  to  say 


132  FAITH  [ca 

the  quest  of  ontological  truth,  is  ruled  out  as  having 
nothing  to  do  with  reHgion  ;  if,  moreover,  a  theory  of  know- 
ledge is  held  which  confines  us  to  phenomena  and  puts 
absolute  truth  wholly  out  of  our  reach ;  if  all  mysticism,  in- 
cluding of  course  the  Pauline  doctrine  of  the  unio  mystica, 
is  rejected  as  '  Catholic  piety  '  ;  what  have  we  left  but  a 
Christ  who  for  us  somehow  *  has  the  value  of  God '  ?  If 
the  Ritschlian  is  pressed  further  as  to  what  he  means  by 
this  phrase,  he  probably  answers  :  First  of  all,  Christ  is 
the  perfect  revelation  of  God  to  men.  He  manifests  to  us 
the  will  and  character  of  God.  He  who  knows  Christ, 
knows  the  Father  also.  Secondly,  He  completely  identi- 
fied Himself  with  God's  will  and  purpose.  Instead  of  the 
orthodox  union  of  natures,  we  have  a  complete  harmony 
of  wills,  which,  from  the  peculiar  standpoint  of  this  school, 
is  a  greater  thing.  Thirdly,  they  say,  He  manifests  a  com- 
plete supremacy  over  the  world,  in  the  sense  of  inward 
independence  of  it.  This  is  a  characteristic  .survival  of 
Luther's  own  thought,  that  the  Christian  is  essentially 
the  world's  master.  It  is  not  an  idea  which  has  any  pro- 
minence In  a  well-balanced  Christianity,  but  it  is  extremely 
popular  in  German  Protestantism. ^  As  the  result  of  these 
qualities  in  Jesus  Christ  we  are  allowed  to  say  that  He  has 
for  us  the  value  of  God,  and  are  forbidden  to  ask  any  more 
questions  about  this  Divinity.  As  for  His  present  con- 
dition, we  are  given  to  understand  that  He  is  living  some- 
how and  somewhere  in  glory,  but  this  belief  is  carefully 
and  jealously  deprived  of  any  religious  significance  by  the 
reiterated  warning  that  the  exalted  Christ  is  hidden  from 
us,  and  cut  off  from  any  direct  contact  with  us,  even  in 
the  life  of  prayer.  Thus  the  mystical  Christology,  which 
was  the  root  and  source  of  all  St.  Paul's  personal  religion, 
and  the  inspiration  of  his  life,  is  repudiated  absolutely. 
The  Incarnation  lives  only  in  its  effects.  '  The  work  of 
Christ  in  the  state  of  exaltation  must  be  represented  by 

I  Orr,  The  Ritschlian  Theology  ^  p.  128. 


VIII.]         AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  133 

the  permanent  effect  of  His  historical  appearance.'  ^  This 
Christology  is  closely  akin  to  the  theology  of  the  Deists, 
according  to  whom  God  created  the  world,  and  then  left  it 
to  itself.  The  exalted  Christ  of  Ritschlianism  is  a  roi 
faineant,  politely  ushered,  like  the  Epicurean  gods,  into 
some  astral  limbo  where  He  is  comfortably  out  of  the  way. 
It  is  not  clear  why  these  men  do  not  say  plainly  that  He 
passed  finally  out  of  existence  on  Good  Friday  ;  for  the 
logic  of  their  system  has  no  further  use  for  Him.  Ritsch- 
lianism in  fact  has  no  eschatology.  In  place  of  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  eternal  life,  we  have  phrases  like  the 
following  curious  sentence  :  '  Man  compares  himself  with 
the  whole  natural  system,  since  in  his  spiritual  self-feeling 
he  apprehends  himself  as  a  being  who  in  greatness  stands 
near  to  the  supra-mundane  God,  and  makes  the  claim 
to  live,  notwithstanding  the  experience  of  death.'  Whether 
this  *  claim '  is  allowed  or  disallowed  we  are  not  told, 
though  the  matter  is  presumably  of  some  interest  to  man- 
kind. The  truth  is,  that  according  to  the  logic  of  the 
system  there  is  no  room  for  a  future  life.  *  The  world's 
master,'  when  removed  from  the  world,  is  a  king  without 
a  kingdom. 

There  are  many  German  theologians  who  are  in  partial 
sympathy  with  Ritschl,  but  who  accept  the  Resurrection, 
the  continued  activity  of  the  living  Christ,  and  the  future 
life.  Herrmann,  the  author  of  the  little  book  Communion 
with  God,  which  has  a  great  popularity  in  his  own  country, 
and  has  been  translated  into  English,  occasionally  indulges 
in  language  about  the  exalted  Christ  which  is  in  flat  con- 
tradiction with  his  principles,  and  in  consequence,  in 
spite  of  his  violent  tirades  against  mysticism,  he  has  been 
accused  by  more  logical  Ritschlians  of  falling  himself  into 
the  error  of  the  mystics.  ^  Kaftan,  one  of  the  ablest  of  the 
school,  fairly  breaks  away  from  it  in  his  Christology,  and 

1  Ritschl,  quoted  by  Orr,  p.  134. 
»  Orr,  p.  223. 


134  FAITH  [CH. 

says :  *  Even  Christ  has  become  to  us,  in  this  age,  a 
distant  historical  appearance.  The  sole  means  of  removing 
this  impression  is  a  powerful  and  immediate  faith  in,  and 
communion  with,  the  exalted  Christ.'  Compare  this  with 
Herrmann's  :  '  Of  a  communion  with  the  exalted  Christ 
there  can  be  no  question.' 

Another  point  in  which  the  position  of  Ritschl  has 
obviously  become  untenable,  even  to  his  disciples,  is  the 
virtual  denial  of  any  other  channel  of  revelation  except 
the  historical  Christ.  Instead  of  forcing  Christology  into 
the  Old  Testament,  like  Luther,  the  Ritschlians  denied 
the  latter  any  value  at  all.  Nor  was  any  value  attached  to 
revelations  coming  from  secular  history,  science,  or  art. 
The  vigour  and  rigour  of  this  position  have  been  found 
impossible  to  maintain. 

My  object,  however,  in  this  lecture,  is  not  to  criticise 
any  particular  school  of  theology,  but  to  arrive  at  a  clear 
idea  of  what  is  meant  by  saying  that  for  us  Christians 
Christ  is  our  primary  authority. 

According  to  the  view  which  I  uphold,  and  which  has 
been  that  of  the  best  Christian  philosophy  from  the  first, 
there  is  an  original,  natural  bond  between  God  and  the 
human  soul.  This  innate  *  tendency  to  God,'  as  Robert 
Browning  calls  it,  may  be  explained  or  expressed  in  very 
various  language.  To  the  psychologist,  who  rightly  dis- 
claims the  intention  of  establishing  ultimate  truth  by  means 
of  mental  science,  it  is  simply  a  fact  of  consciousness  to  be 
taken  note  of  and  analysed  as  it  stands.  He  will  give  no 
answe  •  to  the  question  whence  it  comes,  or  whether  it 
is  in  correspondence  with  any  objective  external  reality. 
He  will  not  attempt  to  determine  whether  its  source  is 
human  or  divine,  whether  it  belongs  to  ourselves  or  is 
imparted  by  God.  The  scholastic  mystics  had  their  own 
names  for  it.  They  often  called  it  by  the  queer  name 
irvvTrjprja-iSf  the  origin  of  which  is  obscure.  They  explain 
it  as  a  faculty  which  never  consents  to  evil,  a  sort  of  divine 


VIII.]         AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  135 

core  of  the  soul,  by  which  it  can  come  into  touch  with  what 
is  akin  to  it,  the  divine  nature.  It  is  much  the  same 
as  the  K€VTpov  ^vxrjs  of  Plotinus,  and  the  Funkelein  of 
Eckhart.  According  to  the  Logos-Christology,  this  can 
only  be  the  operation  of  the  creative  and  indwelling  Logos 
which  '  became  flesh  '  in  Jesus  Christ.  Put  away,  if  you 
will,  all  that  is  fanciful  and  arbitrary  in  these  figures.  But 
do  not  lightly  surrender  the  belief  which  they  try  to  express: 
that  there  is  in  the  human  soul  a  potential  God-conscious4 
ness,  which  was  antecedent  to  the  historical  revelation,  \ 
and  was  a  necessary  condition  of  it.  For  the  mystics 
are  surely  right  in  holding  that  like  can  only  be  known  by 
like.  '  If  there  were  not  something  akin  to  the  sun  in  us, 
we  could  never  behold  the  sun.'  If  this  is  denied — if 
there  is  no  such  inner  bond  between  human  nature  and  the 
divine,  it  is  very  diffiqult  to  show  how  the  two  can  ever  be 
brought  together.  And  so  we  find  that  the  revelation  of 
Jesus  Christ,  for  the  school  which  we  have  been  considering, 
is  not  so  much  a  reconcihation  of  man  with  God,  as  a  \ 
reconciliation  of  man  with  the  world.  If  we  reject  and  ^ 
put  out  of  court  all  that  this  school  means  by  Mysticism, 
and  also  all  that  they  mean  by  Natural  Theology,  what 
channel  of  revelation  is  left  ?  God  does  not  act  directly 
upon  the  human  soul,  according  to  them  ;  how  then  does 
He  reveal  Himself  ?  '  Through  Jesus  Christ '  is  their 
answer  ;  but  how  was  the  revelation  made  to  Him  ?  The 
apologists  of  this  school  seem  to  take  refuge  in  the  word 
'mystery,'  which  is  the  usual  expedient  of  a  theologian 
when  caught  in  an  awkward  dilemma.  There  is  no  mystery 
about  it.  Either  Christ  must  have  received  the  revelation 
by  direct  personal  union  with  God,  or  the  knowledge  of 
God  possessed  by  Christ  must  be  only  the  intellectual 
concomitant  of  that  right  direction  of  the  will  which 
Christ  exhibited  in  a  pre-eminent  degree.  The  former 
alternative  is  excluded  by  the  whole  principles  of  the 
school.    For  if  the  unio  mystica  is  a  reality  between  God 


136  FAITH  [cH. 

and  the  human  Christ,  why  are  no  traces  of  it  to  he  allowed 
between  God,  or  Christ,  and  the  Christian  ?  And  the 
latter  alternative  deprives  the  testimony  of  Christ  of  its 
authoritative  character.^  For  remember  that  the  unique- 
ness and  solitariness  of  the  revelation  through  Christ  is 
one  of  the  points  which  are  most  insisted  on. 

If  there  is  no  essential  kinship  between  God  and  man,  no 
revelation  of  God  to  man  could  ever  take  place.  This  seems 
to  be  an  irrefragable  truth.  And  it  follows  that  if  Christ 
was  divine,  as  the  Church  teaches,  and  in  the  sense  which 
the  Church  teaches,  His  revelation  cannot  have  been 
purely  external  or  purely  historical  and  static,  but  must 
be  given  to  and  through  the  Christ-like  element  in  our 
consciousness.  In  fact,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  doctrines 
of  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  of  the  indwelling  Spirit  of 
Christ  stand  or  fall  together. 

You  will  now  see  in  what  sense  only  I  think  we  can 
accept  the  statement  that  the  authority  of  the  historic 
Christ  is  primary  for  Christians.  Strictly,  it  is  the  in- 
dwelling Christ  who  is  the  primary  authority  ;  but  assur- 
edly I  do  not  wish  to  separate  the  two,  and  postulate  comme 
deux  Christs  with  M.  Loisy.  The  difference  between  my 
view  and  that  which  I  have  been  criticising  is  important 
because  my  view  makes  revelation  dynamic  :  it  gives  room 
for  further  growth  ;  it  gives  a  reason  and  justification  for 
the  long  history  of  the  Church,  seeing  that  only  through 
long  experience,  much  suffering,  and  many  mistakes  could 
the  dispensation,  begun  at  the  Incarnation,  fulfil  its 
course  and  attain  its  end. 

Some  of  you  will  suspect,  I  am  afraid,  that  I  am  mini- 
mising the  historical  facts  connected  with  the  Incarnation 
— whittling  away  the  significance  of  our  Lord's  life,  making 
it  only  a  stage  in  the  evolution  of  humanity.  Well,  let  us 
ask  ourselves  what  a  fact  means — whether  it  is  just  the  same 
as  a  phenomenon,  or  whether  it  means  something  more. 

1  Orr,  p.  261. 


AUTHORITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHRIST  137 


The  distinction  between  fact  and  phenomenon  has  never 
been  better  explained  than  by  that  very  interesting  philo- 
sopher, Rudolf  Eucken.  The  essential  function  of  a  fact, 
he  says,  is  to  yield  its  living  meaning  to  the  present  in  some 
imperishable  form,  and  therefore  the  fact  must  itself  first 
own  and  exercise  the  Hfe  which  it  communicates.  No 
atomic  conception  of  a  '  fact '  is  possible.  The  '  fact ' 
must  be  what  Eucken  calls  a  Lebens-system,  a  systematised 
whole  of  Hfe.  *  Isolated  events  are  not  facts,  but  abstractions 
from  them.  The  '*  fact  "  must  have  a  certain  independence 
and  capacity  for  development  according  to  its  own  nature. 
If  it  has  less  than  this,  it  is  only  a  mutilated  and  fractional 
fact.  ...  A  fact  of  history  must  be  some  historic  move- 
ment with  at  least  a  beginning  and  a  middle,  even  if  it  lack 
a  finish.  So  understood,  a  historical  fact  is  a  true  historical 
unit,  and  the  essential  significance  of  "  unit "  is  "  unity." 
A  historical  fact  is  a  historical  unity.  Such  unities  do  not 
lie  on  the  surface  of  life.  ...  It  requires  spiritual  insight 
to  pass  from  phenomenon  to  fact.'  ^  It  is,  then,  a  false 
abstraction  to  isolate  the  events  of  three  or  thirty  years 
as  is  sometimes  done.  So  isolated,  they  are  degraded  from 
a  fact  to  a  phenomenon.  The  plan  of  the  Incarnation  was 
to  initiate  a  movement  which  in  its  entirety  was  to  consti- 
tute a  theophany  in  the  life  of  humanity  itself.  The 
Christian  revelation  embraces,  or  rather  is,  the  whole  of 
that  movement,  by  far  the  greater  part  of  which  is,  for  us, 
in  the  unknown  future. 

It  appears  to  me,  then,  that  this  attempt  to  isolate  the 
records  of  the  Galilean  ministry  as  closing  for  ever  the 
revelation  of  God  to  man,  is  only  another  example  of  the 
tendency  which  we  have  found  in  other  cases,  to  arrest 
the  natural  development  of  Faith  at  a  certain  point,  in 
order  to  gain  the  convenience  of  an  unchangeable  standard 
of  belief  and  conduct.     It  is  nearer  the  truth  than  belief 

1  Boyce  Gibson,  Rudolf  Eucken's  Philosophy  of  Life,  p.  41 ;  and  cf. 
Eucken's  latest  book,  The  Life  of  the  Sjpirit. 


138  FAITH  [cH. 

in  an  infallible  Pope  or  an  infallible  Bible  ;  but  it  is  open 
to  very  grave  objections,  which  I  hope  I  have  made  clear 
to  you. 

In  practice,  it  may  lead  to  an  uncritical  appeal  to  this 
or  that  precept  in  the  Gospels,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
a  regretful  repudiation  of  Christ's  authority,  on  the  ground 
that  some  of  His  precepts  are  manifestly  inappHcable,  if 
taken  literally,  to  present  conditions.  Our  Lord  unques- 
tionably used  hyperbole  in  His  teaching.  He  was  accus- 
tomed, like  other  teachers  who  wish  to  impress  their 
points  on  a  popular  audience,  to  make  without  qualifica- 
tion statements  which  need  qualification,  and  to  supply 
the  necessary  correction  on  another  occasion.  In  plain 
words,  they  occasionally  contradict  themselves  ;  and  such 
formal  contradictions  occur  in  the  Gospels.  It  follows 
that  in  order  to  understand  them  we  must  use  reason  and 
common  sense,  and  consider  particular  sayings  in  the  light 
suppUed  by  the  teaching  as  a  whole.  This,  and  not  the 
attitude  of  a  suppliant  consulting  an  oracle,  is  the  proper 
way  to  consult  the  authority  of  Christ.  We  have  also  to 
face  the  possibiUty  that  we  have  not  got  always  the  exact 
Greek  equivalents  of  the  words  used  by  the  Divine  Speaker ; 
and  the  strong  probability  that  some  of  His  sayings  are 
out  of  their  places,  placed  by  His  biographers  in  a  wrong 
setting,  or,  in  a  few  cases,  perhaps,  even  wrongly  put  into 
His  mouth.  All  this  would  be  disquieting  if  the  Christ  of 
the  Gospels  were  our  sole  primary  authority.  It  is  not 
disquieting  if  we  may  interpret  particular  words  by  the 
known  drift  of  His  teaching,  by  the  witness  of  His  Spirit 
in  our  hearts,  and,  to  some  extent,  by  other  sources 
of  revelation. 

Lastly,  I  am  not  following  those  modem  Roman  Catholic 
apologists  who  depreciate  the  authority  of  the  earthly 
Christ  in  order  to  exalt  that  of  the  Church  speaking  in  His 
name.  That  is  an  error  which  we  have  already  considered 
and  rejected.    The  Church  is  to  grow  up  into  Christ  in  all 


VIII.]        AUTHOEITY  BASED  ON  JESUS  CHKIST  139 

things,  not  out  of  Him  into  something  very  different.  He 
is  very  much  more  than  the  historical  Founder  of  a  great 
institution  with  a  very  chequered  record.  Nor  could  we 
possibly  confine  His  activities  since  the  Ascension  to  the 
supervision  of  one  religious  body,  however  august.  But 
the  Catholic  apologetic  has  this  great  advantage  over  the 
Protestant  that  it  accepts  development,  and  looks  forward. 
It  does  not  worship  a  dead  Lord. 

I  have  now  finished  that  part  of  my  course  which  deals 
with  authority.  I  have  shown,  I  hope,  that  external 
authority,  in  whatever  form,  cannot  be  a  primary  ground 
of  Faith,  and  that  the  authority  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  the 
well  instructed  Christian,  is  not  external,  but  is  a  voice 
which  speaks  within  us  as  well  as  to  us.  The  complete 
autonomy  of  the  human  spirit  would  be  identical  with 
perfect  obedience  to  Christ ;  His  service,  as  the  Collect 
says,  is  perfect  freedom. 

As  a  matter  of  experience,  this  way  of  thinking  about 
Christ  does  not  dehumanise  Him  into  a  cosmic  principle. 
Rather,  we  find  with  Robert  Browning,  that 

That  one  Face,  far  from  vanish,  rather  grows, 

Or  decomposes  but  to  recorapose, 

Become  my  universe  that  feels  and  knows.^ 

That  face,  explained  the  poet  to  a  friend,  is  the  face  of 
Christ. 

1  Robert  Browning,  DramcUis  Personae,  Epilogut, 


140  FAITH  (cH. 


CHAPTER    IX 

FAITH   AS  AN   ACT  OF  WILL 

In  my  last  lecture  I  considered  the  proper  place  of  authority 
in  matters  of  Faith,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  no 
authority  can  claim  to  be  primary  except  the  clear  affirma- 
\tions  of  Faith  itself — those  spontaneous  assertions  of  the 
basal  personality  which  religion  calls  the  voice  of  God  within 
us,  and  which  philosophy,  in  more  cumbrous  phrase,  might 
describe  as  the  self-revelation  of  the  objective  in  our 
subjectivity.  This  voice,  as  I  have  said,  speaks  through, 
rather  than  to,  the  human  heart  and  conscience  and 
intellect,  nor  is  it  possible  to  separate  the  divine  and 
human  elements  in  any  act  of  Faith.  To-day  I  pass  to 
another  branch  of  our  subject,  one  of  great  interest  and 
importance.  We  have  resisted  the  temptation  to  arrest 
and  fix  the  development  of  Faith  in  the  region  of  undiffer- 
entiated feeling.  We  have  found  that  reliance  on  external 
authority,  of  whatever  kind,  is  at  best  only  a  makeshift,  a 
substitute  for  a  full  and  manly  Faith.  We  have  decided 
that  Faith  must  operate  through  our  natural  faculties. 
But  which  of  our  faculties  is  the  chosen  organ  of  Faith  ? 
Is  it  the  will,  or  the  intellect,  or  that  specialised  feeling 
which  creates  aesthetic  judgments  ?  We  must  consider 
the  claims  of  these  faculties  in  turn.  And  first.  What  is 
the  relation  of  Faith  to  the  will  ?  Is  Faith  simply  and 
solely  a  moral  postulate,  an  act  of  choice  ?  Is  the  ground 
of  Faith  our  moral  decision  to  believe  ? 


XX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  141 

The  proverb  that  the  wish  is  father  to  the  thought 
assuredly  calls  attention  to  a  fact  which  we  cannot  afford 
to  forget.  People  do,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  believe  things 
because  they  wish  to  believe  them.     Hobbes  declared  that 

*  even  the  axioms  of  geometry  would  be  disputed  if  men's 
passions  were  concerned  in  them '  ;  and  we  have  only  to 
contrast  a  page  of  Euclid  with  a  political  or  theological 
harangue,  in  order  to  realise  how  differently  we  reason 
when  we  are  dealing,  not  with  mathematical  symbols  having 
a  fixed  connotation,  but  with  living  ideas  and  disputable 
values.  People  believe  what  they  wish  to  be  true,  both 
voluntarily  and  involuntarily.  They  will  say  without 
shame,  '  I  like  to  think  so  and  so,'  as  a  reason  why  they  do 
think  so.  And  they  will  not  change  their  opinions  because 
they  are  beaten  in  argument. 

He  that  complies  against  his  will 
Is  of  the  same  opinion  still. 

Moreover,  without  intending  it,  we  often  listen  to  the 
flattering  tale  which  hope  tells.  Charlatans  of  all  kinds 
trade  on  this  weakness  of  human  nature.  Without  it,  a  great 
many  popular  follies,  such  as  betting  on  horse-races,  and 
gambling  at  Monte  Carlo  or  on  the  Stock  Exchange,  would 
come  to  an  end.  The  dry  hght  of  reason  would  generally 
convince  the  gambler  that  he  stands  to  lose  ;  but  he  throws 
his  desires  into  the  scale,  and  vaguely  hopes  that '  luck  will 
be  on  his  side.' 

In  matters  of  practice,  when  any  end  is  being  pursued, 
the  advantages  of  a  sanguine  temperament  are  so  obvious 
that  men  look  very  indulgently  on  the  self-deceptions 
which  it  produces.     '  If  you  do  not  hope,'  said  Heraclitus, 

*  you  will  never  find  that  which  is  beyond  your  hopes.'  In 
many  cases,  a  strong  will  has  the  power  to  bring  about  the 
realisation  of  that  which  it  desires,  and  the  refusal  to  limit 
hopes  by  the  evidence  of  probability  brings  its  own  reward 
and  justification. 


142  FAITH  [CH 

•  None  without  hope  e'er  loved  the  brightest  fair, 
I  But  love  may  hope  where  reason  might  despair.^ 

We  encourage  the  wilful  optimist,  the  dogged  struggler 
who  cannot  see  when  he  is  beaten,  because  this  temper  so 
often  achieves  great  things. 

How  far  are  we  to  approve  of  the  same  temper  when  it 
is  applied  to  our  religious  beliefs  ?  There  is  no  doubt  at 
all  that  by  determining  to  believe  a  doctrine,  by  deliberately 
refusing  to  dwell  on  arguments  on  the  other  side,  by  refusing 
to  listen  to  objections  or  read  books  by  opponents,  above 
all,  by  making,  so  to  speak,  a  personal  wager  by  acting  as 
if  it  were  true,  and  incurring  loss  should  it  be  false — by 
these  methods  we  can  make  ourselves  believe  many  things 
against  the  weight  of  evidence.    As  Clough  puts  it : — 

A-ction  will  furnish  belief, — ^but  will  that  belief  be  the 

true  one  ? 
That  is  the  point,  you  know.     However,  it  doesn't  much 

matter. 
What  one  wants,    I   suppose,  is  to  predetermine  the 

action 
So  as  to  make  it  entail,  not  a  chance  belief,  but  the 

true  one. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  this  is  an  effective  and  practi- 
cable method  of  determining  and  fixing  our  beliefs.  The 
will  to  believe  is,  as  Professor  William  James  and  his 
friends  maintain,  a  real  and  actual  ground  of  belief, 
whether  such  a  belief  deserves  the  name  of  Faith  or  not. 
However,  the  question  is  (and  I  do  not  agree  with  Clough 
that  it  doesn't  much  matter),  not  whether  men  do  form 
their  beliefs  in  this  way,  but  whether  they  ought  to  do  so. 
This  question  is  the  subject  of  my  lecture  to-day. 

One  fact  is  indisputable.  Wherever  we  find  great 
emphasis  laid  on  the  practical  support  given  by  Faith  as  a 
reason  for  believing,  there  we  find  also  intellectual  scepti- 
1  Lord  Lyttelton,  1709-1773. 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  143 

cism.  The  argument  would  never  be  advanced  by  any 
one  who  (to  use  a  phrase  of  Eenan)  '  beHeves  heavily.'  At 
the  same  time,  it  does  not  imp  y  such  complete  distrust  in 
human  faculties  as  is  implied  by  reliance  on  external 
revelation.  Writers  like  Mansel  are  complete  sceptics/ 
whose  choice  of  orthodoxy  instead  of  agnosticism  seems 
to  be  almost  a  matter  of  chance.  Herbert  Spencer  was 
able  to  accept  all  Hansel's  arguments,  while  rejecting  his 
conclusion.  The  school  which  we  are  now  to  consider 
base  their  religious  Faith  not  on  external  authority  but  on 
the  affirmations  of  the  *  practical  reason,'  which  is  at  any 
rate  part  of  our  endowment  as  human  beings.  They  are 
intellectual  sceptics,  but  moral  believers. 

Periods  of  ambitious  construction  in  philosophy  are 
regularly  followed  by  periods  of  doubt  and  discouragement. 
The  imposing  thought-palace,  which  was  to  incorporate  in 
its  fabric  every  kind  of  truth,  betrays  unsoundness  in  its 
foundations.  The  invulnerable  Achilles  is  discovered  to 
have  an  unprotected  heel ;  and  forthwith  scepticism 
threatens  to  engulf  everything.  But  scepticism  can  always 
be  turned  against  itself  ;  and  unwilling  scepticism  welcomes 
its  own  discomfiture.  Faith,  we  will  suppose,  finds  itself 
menaced  by  natural  science.  But  on  what  grounds,  men 
soon  begin  to  ask,  is  science  made  a  judge  and  ruler  over 
us  ?  Is  not  science,  as  well  as  theology,  the  product  of 
human  thought  and  of  human  instincts  ?  Her  conclusions 
are  not  infallible,  her  fundamental  assumptions  are  still 
disputable  and  disputed.  Her  chief  dogma,  the  uniformity 
of  nature,  is  admitted  to  be  a  matter  of  Faith.  Why  is 
Faith  to  be  allowed  an  entrance  at  this  one  point  and  here 
only  ?  Why  may  we  not  have  Faith  in  the  practical  reason 
as  well  as  in  the  speculative  ?  Might  it  not  even  be 
plausibly  maintained  that  the  theoretical  reason  is  more 

1  So  far,  at  least,  as  any  philosopher  can  be  a  complete  sceptic.  The 
absolute  sceptic  does  not  construct  a  philosophy  out  of  scepticism — he  does 
not  philosophise  at  alL 


144  FAITH  [CH. 

fallible  than  the  practical  ?  Almost  every  paradox  has 
been  plausibly  maintained  by  philosophers.  Havrl  Ao-yc^ 
Xoyos  dvrLK€Lraij  as  Aristotle  said  ;  and  the  greater  the 
intellect,  the  greater  may  be  the  blunder.  'There 
are  errors  which  lie  out  of  the  reach  of  an  ordinary  mind'  :^ 
magna  magnorum  deliramenta  doctorum,  says  St.  Augustine. 
Further,  psychology  has  proved  that  desires  and  emotions 
do  influence  belief.  Pure  reasoning  is  a  pure  figment ;  no 
man  was  ever  guided  by  pure  reason.  Again,  what  is  the 
test  of  truth  to  which  the  rationalist  or  intellectualist  refers 
us  ?  Has  he  any  ultimate  criterion  of  knowledge  ?  If 
not,  may  not  what  he  calls  superstition  be  as  respectable 
as  what  he  calls  truth  ?  If  the  so-called  superstitions 
work,  they  Justify  and  verify  themselves.  They  may 
claim  to  be  *  protective  organs,'  or  something  of  the  kind  ; 
and  what  more  are  the  rationalist's  reasons  ?  Lastly, 
these  new  apologists  tell  us  that  the  bases  of  our  intellectual 
constructions  are  not  axioms  but  postulates  ;  i.e.  we  reject 
the  alternative  propositions,  not  because  they  are,  on  the 
face  of  them,  ridiculous,  but  because  we  have  *  no  use  for 
them.'  The  will  and  the  understanding  are  both  instru- 
ments of  living,  and  the  will  is  the  more  efficient  of  the 
two.  If  we  still  desiderate  some  proof  that  the  claims  of 
our  will  are  ontologically  true,  we  may  be  reminded  (as  a 
concession  to  our  weak-minded  and  benighted  '  absolu- 
tism ')  that  even  though  the  ground  of  our  beUef  in  certain 
heories  lies  in  the  fact  that  we  need  them,  we  did  not 
create  the  circumstance  that  we  need  them.  Either  the 
nature  of  things,  which  is  responsible  for  the  fact  that  we 
need  them,  is  irrational,  '  which  is  absurd,'  or  our  needs 
must  be  founded  on  the  real  constitution  of  the  world. 
The  school  which  we  are  now  considering  deliberately 
s  amalgamates  will  and  feeling — thus  getting  a  broader  basis 
for  its  constructions,  though  discursive  thought  is  excluded 
as  a  sort  of  pariah.     This  fusion  of  will  and  feeling  seems  to 

1  Balmez,  quoted  by  Eickaby,  First  Principles,  p.  116. 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  145 

me  psychologically  untenable  ;  it  leads  to  an  extension  of 
the  use  of  *  will,'  which  is  contrary  to  earlier  usage,  and  very 
misleading.  These  writers  set  out  to  prove  the  primacy 
of  will,  and  then  smuggle  into  the  idea  of  *  will '  a  great 
deal  that  does  not  belong  to  it.  But  they  are  strong  on 
the  empirical  side.  The  influence  of  a  steady  determina- 
tion on  the  formation  of  character  is  undeniable  ;  and  the 
phenomena  of  faith-healing,  hypnotism,  and  suggestion 
point  to  a  hitherto  unsuspected  potency  residing  in  the  will, 
and  capable,  at  least  under  some  conditions,  of  being 
utilised.  These  obscure  psychical  energies  have  been 
more  studied  and  more  exploited  in  America  than  in  any 
other  country  ;  and  I  believe  that  this  fact  has  had  much 
to  do  with  the  revolt  against  intellectuaUsm  in  philosophy, 
which  is  now  so  powerful  in  the  United  States.  Not  only 
do  these  phenomena  seem  to  present  a  practical  refutation 
of  Spinozism,  and  of  its  modem  representative  the  theory 
of  psycho-physical  parallelism,  but  the  present  condition  of 
psychology  seems  to  demand  a  modest  hesitation  in  laying 
down  any  limits  to  the  possible  action  of  mind  upon  matter. 
It  is  felt  that  we  are  only  at  the  beginning  of  what  may  be 
a  new  epoch  in  mental  science,  and  that  when  our  know- 
ledge has  been  extended  and  systematised,  the  bogey  of 
determinism  may  be  laid  once  for  all,  and  science  may  be 
compelled  to  take  a  much  humbler  attitude  towards 
religion  and  ethics. 

This  line  of  thought  is  very  welcome  to  many,  who  have 
long  felt  that  the  mechanical  theory,  which  reduces  men 
and  women  to  the  condition  of  cunningly  devised  automata, 
is  fatal  to  moral  freedom,  to  human  dignity,  and  to  religious 
hope.  It  is  also  very  convenient  to  the  conservative  apolo- 
gist, anxious  to  vindicate  divine  interventions  in  history. 

It  will  be  well  first  to  give  a  short  historical  account 
of  the  growth  of  '  pragmatist '  tendencies  in  religious 
philosophy. 

The  first  serious  attempt  to  exalt  the  will  above  the 

K 


14«  FAITH  [CH. 

intellect  as  an  instrument  of  religious  belief  was  made  by 
the  Nominalist  opponents  of  Thomas  Aquinas.  With  the 
doctrine  of  the  primacy  of  the  will  came  the  adoption  of  a 
practical  or  empirical  criterion  of  truth  instead  of  a  theo- 
retical one.^  This  cleavage  appeared  even  among  the 
mystics,  the  followers  of  the  Platonic  and  Augustinian 
tradition  insisting  on  the  knowledge  of  God  as  the  con- 
comitant or  condition  of  spiritual  progress,  while  there  were 
others  who  maintained  that  a  complete  dedication  of  the 
will  was  sufficient.  The  latter  teaching,  with  mystics,  led  to 
quietism,  while  the  former  was  accused  of  tending  towards 
speculative  pantheism.  The  Theologia  Germanica  repre- 
sents a  moderate  quietism  ;  Eckhart  is  a  stronger  example 
of  the  pantheistic  tendency.  Among  the  scholastics 
proper,  the  school  of  Thomas  Aquinas  represented  the 
speculative  tendency,  while  William  of  Occam  was 
the  chief  champion  of  the  will  and  practical  reason. 
Nominalism  was  at  first  suspected,  but  was  afterwards 
encouraged,  when  realism  was  seen  to  favour  determinism 
and  pantheistic  mysticism.  NominaUsm  could  also  do  a 
great  service  to  the  Papacy  by  deciding  that,  since  reason 
cannot  arrive  at  the  truth,  we  ought  to  bow  absolutely  to 
the  authority  of  the  Church.  The  doctrine  of  fides  impli- 
cita,  which  practically  means  blind  obedience,  was  de- 
veloped. But  after  a  very  short  reign  nominalism  itself 
decayed,  when  Plato  (the  real  Plato  this  time)  was  redis- 
covered. 

Among  modem  philosophers  before  Kant  who  laid  great 
stress  on  the  prac  ical  ground  of  Faith,  we  need  only 
mention  Spinoza.  This  writer  sees  the  religious  value  of 
dogmas  not  in  their  actual  truth,  but  in  their  power  of 
moving  to  action.     We  are  allowed  and  encouraged  to  state 

1  The  following  brief  statement  of  the  epistemology  of  Nominalism  will  show 
its  close  affinity  with  Kantianism  and  American  pragmatism.  '  Theologia  nos!  ra 
nnllatenus  specnlativa  est,  sed  simpliciter  practica.  Theologiae  objectum 
non  est  speculabile  sed  operabile.  (^>uidquid  in  Deo  est  practicum  est  respectu 
nostri.'    (Frassen.) 


I 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  147 

our  dogmas  in  the  form  which  suits  us  best.  The  end  of 
Faith,  he  says,  is  obedience  and  piety.  In  this  theory  of 
Faith  he  prepared  the  way  for  thinkers  who  were  strongly 
opposed  to  his  philosophy  as  a  whole. 

Kant's  attack  upon  the  scholastic  *  proofs  of  God's 
existence,'  and  upon  intellectualism  generally  in  matters 
of  Faith,  is  well  known.  There  is,  according  to  him,  'a 
deep  gulf  between  thought  and  being,  which  nothing  can 
overcome.  Things  in  themselves  ai'e  the  condition  of 
all  thought;  but  what  exists  we  cannot  know.'  If  we 
say  that  God,  or  the  Absolute,  must  be  self-consistent 
and  all-embracing,  we  are  told  that  the  logical  law  of 
contradiction  ^  is  concerned,  not  with  real  things,  but  only 
with  the  concepts  which  we  form  about  them.  Logical 
laws  are  only  laws  of  thought,  not  laws  which  bind  reality. 
The  result  of  this  assumption  is  that  he  separates  our 
theoretical  and  moral  judgments  as  they  are  never  separ- 
ated in  experience,  and  gives  us  first  an  abstract  intellectual 
scepticism  in  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  and  then  an 
abstract  moraHstic  deism  in  the  Critique  of  Practical 
Reason.  But  it  is  a  pure  assumption  that  because  the  law 
of  contradiction  is  a  logical  law,  it  must  be  only  a  logical 
law  and  nothing  more.  Indeed  it  is  meaningless  to  talk 
about  a  law  which  is  '  only  a  law  of  thought.'  When  we 
say  that  we  cannot  think  of  A  as  being  at  once  B  and  not 
B,  we  are  not  laying  down  a  law  for  psychology.  Experi- 
ence suggests  that  many  people  are  quite  capable  of  holding 
two  contradictory  propositions  simultaneously.  WTiat  we 
mean  is  that  if  we  think  in  this  way,  we  are  not  thinking 
truly,  or,  in  other  words,  we  are  not  thinking  of  things  as 
they  really  are.  We  cannot  speak  of  '  mere  logical  laws  ' 
without  falling  into  the  extreme  of  scepticism.  If  necessary 
thought  is  no  criterion  of  objective  truth,  how  can  we  know 

1  The  *  law  of  contradiction '  is  that  a  thing  cannot  at  the  same  time  be  both 
B  and  not  B  ;  or,  '  It  is  impossible  at  the  same  time  to  affirm  and  deny. '  Cf. 
Clarke,  Logic,  pp.  33-42. 


148  FAITH  [oh. 

anything  ?  It  is  strange  that  Kant  treats  with  neglect, 
and  almost  with  contempt,  the  hypothesis  on  which  all  men 
.act,  namely,  that  the  forms  of  knowing  and  being  corre- 
spond because  they  are  manifestations  of  the  same 
intelligent  principle.^  He  did  not  distinguish  this  very 
reasonable  belief  from  the  '  pre-estabhshed  harmony '  of 
Leibnitz,  a  theory  which  may  be  said  to  have  died  with  its 
author. 

According  to  this  philosophy,  we  reach  solid  rock  only  in 
the  moral  consciousness,  which  Kant  supposes  to  be  given 
to  us  immediately.  This  and  this  only  is  vouched  for  by 
Faith — '  I  must,  and  therefore  I  can.'  Morality  thus  con- 
ceived is  as  empty  of  contents  as  it  is  inexplicable  in  its 
origin.  Kant  excludes  the  happiness  or  welfare  of  the 
subject  as  a  legitimate  motive,  and  but  for  an  obvious 
inconsistency  would  have  equally  excluded  the  happiness 
and  welfare  of  others.  For  we  cannot  morally  desire  for 
others  what  we  regard  as  indifferent  for  ourselves.  The 
motive  for  moral  action  must,  according  to  him,  be  simply 
reverence  for  moral  law  as  such.  But  this  is  not  a  suffi- 
cient motive  for  a  rational  being.  We  cannot  do  our  life's 
work  like  convicts  at  a  crank,  whose  task  is  simply  to 
expend  a  prescribed  quantity  of  muscular  energy.  We 
act  in  order  to  produce  something  which  we  regard  as 
worth  producing,  and  the  empty  idea  of  right  gives  us 
no  intelligible  guidance.  To  make  religion  merely  a  tran- 
scendental projection  from  morals  is  to  invert  their  true 
relationship.  The  abstract  moral  sense  is  a  pure  illusion. 
There  is  no  such  fixed  and  known  code  of  morals  as  Kant 
postulates.  There  is  hardly  a  crime  or  vice  that  has  not 
at  some  time  and  place  been  enjoined  in  the  name  of 
morality  and  religion.  Nor  is  morality  '  unconditional,' 
as  Kant  supposed.  Apart  from  the  question  whether 
pleasure  and  pain  can  be  excluded  from  consideration, 

1  In  the  Critique  of  Judgment  there  are  hints  of  this  solution,  but  they 
are  not  developed. 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  149 

as  Kant   demands,  we  have   already   seen    grounds   for\ 
believing   that   truth   and   beauty  exercise  a  co-ordinate 
authority  with  goodness  as  attributes  of  the  divine  mind, 
and  refuse  to  be  subordinated  to  morality. 

The  later  Kantians  have  for  the  most  part  modified  or 
abandoned  the  moral  rigorism  of  their  master,  and  they 
have  also  allowed  the  rationalistic  side  of  Kant's  thought 
to  fall  into  the  background.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
the  rift  which  turns  Kant's  philosophy  into  a  dualism  is 

■  still,  according  to  him,  a  rift  within  the  reason.  If  the 
^practical  and  theoretical  reason  could  make  up  their 
quarrel,  or  rather  get  into  contact  with  each  other,  the 
problem  would  be  solved.  His  philosophy  is  truly  described 
as  '  critical  rationalism  * ;  and  he  cannot  justly  be  classed 
with  the  thorough-going  voluntarists  who  followed  him. 
And  yet  on  one  side  he  is  the  father  of  modern  anti- 
intellectualism.  For  there  is  only  one  reason,  not  two  ;  and 
'  the  '  practical  reason,'  when  set  in  opposition  to  the  theoret- 
ical, and  exalted  above  it,  is  after  all  only  another  name 
'  for  the  irrational  will.  This  has  become  clear  in  the 
development  of  the  neo-Kantian  philosophy,  in  which  war 
is  frankly  declared  against  the  theoretical  or  speculative 
reason.  Against  this  disruption  of  the  human  mind,  which 
if  pressed  to  its  logical  conclusion  is  fatal  to  all  scientific 
knowledge,  Herbert  Spencer  protests  in  language  which 
Christian  philosophy  can  adopt  without  hesitation.  '  Let 
those  who  can,  believe  that  there  is  eternal  war  between 
our  intellectual  faculties  and  our  moral  obligations.  I 
for  one  can  admit  no  such  radical  vice  in  the  constitution 
of  things.' 

My  plan  in  this  lecture  is  to  consider  first  the  recent 

developments  of  voluntarism  and  pragmatism  in  philosophy 

generally — of  course  only  in  bare  outline — and  then  to  deal 

v^    with  the  influence  of  this  tendency  upon  Protestant  and 

IK  Catholic  theology  and  apologetics.     (It  will  be  convenient 

I"""""'"**" 


150  FAITH  [CH. 

Ritschlianism  preceded  in  time  the  Modernist  movement 
in  the  Roman  Church.) 

Neo-Kantianism  in  Germany  has  for  the  most  part  been 
either  connected  with  the  school  of  Protestant  theology 
called  after  Ritschl,  and  so  falls  under  the  second  of  my 
three  headings,  or  else,  as  with  Lange,  it  has  built  on  a 
sceptical  or  despairing  view  of  the  existing  world  an 
aesthetic  superstructure,  in  which  religion  plays  its  part 
along  with  poetry  and  the  arts,  as  an  ideal  embellishment 
of  the  actual.  This  latter  attempt  to  build  an  imaginative 
structure  on  a  Kantian  basis  does  not  belong  to  our 
present  enquiry.  We  are  now  dealing  with  those  who  wish 
to  base  philosophy,  and  with  it,  reUgious  beliefs,  on  free 
choice,  directed  only  by  the  practical  requirements  of  life  in 
the  world.  This  now  popular  unmetaphysical  philosophy, 
which  is  commonly  called  pragmatism,  has  far  more 
disciples  in  America  than  in  any  other  country.  Its  pro- 
tagonist is  Professor  William  James  of  Harvard,  who  has  a 
group  of  disciples  at  Oxford,  and  a  very  large  following 
in  his  own  land. 

The  word  irpayfiaTiKo^y  from  which  pragmatism  is  de- 
rived, meant  in  ancient  Greek  '  practical,'  or  '  businesslike.' 
In  the  political  history  of  medieval  and  modem  times, 
a  '  pragmatic  sanction  '  has  meant  an  inviolable  compact. 
Kant  uses  the  adjective  in  the  sense  of  '  prudent,'  of  action 
directed  to  a  purpose.  Bismarck's  poUcy  was  described 
as  pragmatic,  the  meaning  being  that  he  was  determined 
to  achieve  his  ends  quocumque  modo.  Such  are  the  ante- 
cedents of  the  word,  as  now  used  in  philosophy.  Kant's 
use  of  it  has  probably  had  most  to  do  with  determining 
its  present  signification.  In  current  philosophy,  prag- 
matism is  the  theory  that  *  all  our  beliefs  are  really  rules 
for  action '  ;  and  that  '  to  develop  a  thought's  meaning, 
we  need  only  determine  what  conduct  it  is  fitted  to  pro- 
duce ;  that  conduct  is  for  us  its  sole  significance.'^    From 

1  Professor  W.  James,  Pragmatism,  p.  46 


I 


I 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  151 

this  it  is  made  to  follow  that  the  '  true  is  the  name  of  what- 
ever proves  itself  to  be  good  in  the  way  of  belief,  and  good 
too  for  definite  assignable  reasons.'  ^ 

Professor  James  is  so  uncompromising  an  advocate  of 
the  practical  principle  as  the  ground  of  Faith  that  he  brings 
all  the  limitations  and  errors  of  anti-intellectualism  into 
the  light  of  day.  His  philosophy,  indeed,  is  in  parts  an 
admirable  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  sceptical  opportunism 
as  a  principle  of  thought  and  action.  He  and  his  school 
are  so  determined  to  safeguard  human  personality  and  the 
freedom  of  the  will  that  they  give  us  a  God  who  is  '  limited 
by  all  other  beings  in  the  universe  ' — a  very  constitutional 
President  in  a  society  of  free  and  independent  spirits — 
(unless  indeed  they  prefer,  as  some  of  them  do,  to  make  the 
Absolute  '  a  society,'  which  is  either  atheism  or  polytheism); 
they  deny  that  there  are  any  *  laws  of  nature '  within  the 
sphere  of  the  will ;  they  refuse  to  acknowledge  any  unity 
in  experience,  or  any  evidence  that  the  universe  (which 
one  of  them  suggests  should  be  called  the  *  multi verse  ') 
is  a  systematic  whole.  *  Not  unfortunately,'  says  Professor 
James,  '  the  imiverse  is  wild  ;  nature  is  miracle  all.'  *  We 
must  leave  surprises  even  for  God,'  as  another  writer  of 
the  same  school  says.  This  seems  a  high  price  to  pay 
for  free-will.  A  '  wild  universe,'  where  anything  or  every- 
thing may  happen,  and  which  ^  its  unaccountable  be- 
haviour administers  a  series  of  shocks  even  to  its  Creator, 
would  seem  to  be  a  fit  abode  only  for  a  very  wild  man,  the 
kind  of  person,  in  fact,  whom  we  do  not  permit  to  be  at 
large. 

I  will  not  discuss  further  this  philosophy  (if  it  deserves 
the  name)  of  personal  atomism.  In  proclaiming  the 
bankruptcy  of  science  it  proclaims  its  own  bankruptcy. 
From  the  religious  point  of  view  it  has  the  fatal  defect  of 
denying  divine  immanence  ;  for  a  personal  independence 
which  rests  on  exclusion  forbids  all  communion  between 
1  Professor  W.  James,  Proffmaiismf  p.  76. 


152  FAITH  [CH. 

God  and  man,  as  well  as  between  man  and  the  world.  This 
objection,  it  seems  to  me,  applies  not  only  to  the  extreme 
pragmatists,  Hke  Professor  James,  but  to  the  '  personal 
idealists  '  who  are  not  willing  to  follow  him  all  the  way. 
They  have  proved  that  it  is  possible  to  pay  too  dearly  for 
the  assurance  of  personal  freedom.  That  freedom  is  not 
yet  ours.  Personality,  like  all  else  that  is  imperfect  and 
y  an  unrealised  ideal,  must  die  in  order  that  it  may  live. 
The  way  to  save  our  ^^x^i — to  '  find  it  unto  hfe  eternal ' 
— is  not  by  claiming  that  it  is  lord  of  the  creation,  but 
by  being  willing  to  '  lose '  it  in  the  service  of  grander  and 
wider  aspects  of  reality. 

Nevertheless,  the  ethical  side  of  religion  is  so  important 
that  we  cannot  altogether  blame  those  who  have  no  eyes 
for  any  other  order  of  truth.  They  think  that  what  they 
call  intellectualism  or  rationalism  means  in  practice  natural- 
ism— that  is,  acceptance  of  the  mechanical  order  as  divine, 
and  a  Stoical  worship  of  the  blind  giant  Nature,  who 
cares  only  for  the  preservation  of  her  types,  and  knows 
nothing  of  justice  or  mercy.  The  nineteenth  century 
witne  ;sed  a  series  of  reactions  against  the  supposed  tyranny 
of  natural  law ;  even  Huxley,  in  his  famous  Romanes 
lecture,  could  speak  of  the  duty  of  *  resisting  the  cosmic 
process.'  But  this  is  to  accept  a  Manichean  view  of 
nature.  It  is  to  admit  an  irreconcilable  dualism,  handing 
over  the  world  to  some  non-moral  agency,  while  separating 
man  from  his  environment.  A  truer  solution  is,  not  to 
discredit  natural  law,  but  to  remember  that  science  can 
admit  no  exceptions  to  its  sway.  Natural  law,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  science,  is  universal,  or  it  is  nothing.  It 
includes  the  highest  principles  which  actuate  the  best  of 
men,  as  well  as  the  blind  movements  of  inanimate  things. 
This  consideration  may  lead  us  to  find  spiritual  law  in  the 
natural  world,  a  far  more  satisfactory  discovery  than  the 
notion  that  man  can  successfully  defy  the  order  of  the 
universe.    The  fault,  however,  was  largely  that  of  some 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  153 

scientists  of  the  older  generation,  who  wrote  as  if  molecular 
physics  could  prescribe  rules  for  human  action,  thus  ex- 
plaining the  highest  and  most  complex  forms  of  life  by  the 
simplest  and  lowest.  We  are  not  powerless  in  the  grip  of 
natural  forces,  to  which  we  ourselves  contribute.  This  is 
a  good  world  because  it  needs  us  to  make  it  better.  If 
Bacon  was  right  in  saying  that  nature  is  only  conquered  by 
obeying  her,  it  is  equally  true  that  she  is  only  obeyed  by 
conquering  her. 

The  school  which  we  are  now  considering  also  accuses 
modem  rationalism,  and  the  later  Greek  philosophy  too, 
of  teaching  that  reality  is  '  ready  made  and  complete  from 
all  eternity.'  This  view  deprives  the  time-process  of  all 
value  and  meaning,  and  makes  activity  a  delusion.  Prag- 
matists  insist,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  world  is 
still  in  the  making,  and  that  to  a  large  extent  we  have 
the  making  of  it.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  dynamic 
aspect  of  reality  has  been  unduly  neglected  by  some 
thinkers,  and  we  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  those  who 
have  revived  the  Aristotelian  doctrine  that  *  the  end  is 
an  action,  not  a  quality '  (t5  tcAos  irpa^Ls  tis  eo-rtv  ov  ttoioti^?). 
Aristotle,  however,  never  disparages  the  intellectual 
life,  as  this  school  habitually  does.  In  him,  contem- 
plation is  the  highest  kind  of  action,  and  spiritual  activity 
as  *  practical '  as  manual  labour.  The  pragmatists  are 
fond  of  quoting  ^idvota  avrij  ovSkv  Kivel  (*  the  intellect  by 
itself  moves  nothing ')  as  an  expression  of  anti-intellec- 
tualism.  But  all  that  Aristotle  means  is  that  intellect 
energising  in  vacuo  is  a  false  abstraction. 

Again,  we  cannot  but  be  grateful  to  be  reminded  that 
the  will  and  feelings  must  be  constantly  exercised  in  the 
endeavour  to  reahse  facts  and  to  work  out  our  convictions. 
The  struggle  for  the  higher  hfe  is  so  hard  that  we  tend 
either  to  leave  ourselves  behind,  merely  thinking  and  talking 
about  the  truth,  like  those  of  whom  Aristotle  says  that 
they  '  take  refuge  in  words  and  think  that  they  are  philo- 


154  FAITH  [CH. 

sophers,' '  or  we  construct  a  premature  synthesis  of  reality, 
on  the  basis  of  our  still  disordered  selves.  The  danger  of 
purely  speculative  thinking  has  been  often  exhibited,  and 
is  not  diminished  by  the  counter  warning  that  a  mixture 
of  ethics  and  metaphysics  results  in  a  bad  philosophy.  The 
evil  effects  of  one-sidedness  must  be  recognised,  and  also 
the  extreme  difficulty  of  taking  a  comprehensive  view 
without  incoherence  and  self-contradiction.  The  meta- 
physician who  determines  to  follow  the  argument  whither- 
soever it  leads  him,  ignoring  practical  problems,  and  not 
even  trying  to  make  a  practical  religion  for  himself  out  of 
his  speculations,  is  likely  to  produce  a  more  consistent 
intellectual  system  than  one  who  all  the  time  regards 
metaphysics  as  a  handmaid  of  ethics,  and  will  advocate  no 
principles  which  he  is  not  prepared  to  make  the  standard 
of  his  own  conduct.  Hume  is,  I  venture  to  think,  far 
more  free  from  contradictions  than  Kant ;  and  Hume,  as 
we  know  from  his  private  correspondence,  protested  against 
the  assumption  that  his  speculative  views  about  reUgion 
made  it  more  difficult  for  him  than  for  beUevers  in  Chris- 
tianity to  bear  a  bereavement.  *  In  these  matters,'  he 
wrote,  *  I  do  not  think  so  differently  from  the  rest  of  the 
world  as  you  imagine.'  ^  Thus  that  fearlessly  honest 
thinker  was  obHged  in  practice  to  be  faithless  to  his  own 
intellect,  and  to  testify  to  the  half-truth  of  pragmatism 
as  well  as  to  the  inadequacy  of  scepticism  as  a  working 
creed.  In  the  case  of  Schopenhauer  we  iBnd  an  equally 
independent  intellectual  Hfe,  which  apparently  had  no 
influence  in  elevating  his  moral  character.  Like  Circe's 
human  swine,  his  higher  nature  only  made  him  miserable, 
while  it  left  him  to  wallow  in  the  mire  of  cowardly  selfishness 
and  sensuahty.  But  even  from  the  speculative  stand- 
point, the  consistency  of  a  philosophy  which  has  turned  its 
back  on  experience  is  dearly  purchased.  It  escapes  contra- 
dictions by  refusing  to  consider  some  essential  aspects  of 
»  Aristotle,  Ethict,  ii.  3.  «  Cf.  Burton's  Life  qfHume,  vol.  L  p.  294. 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  166 

the  problem ;  and  in  consequence  its  conclusions  have 
only  an  abstract  and  hypothetical  truth.  They  are  not 
true  of  the  real  world,  or  at  any  rate  they  have  not  been 
shown  to  be  so. 

The  demands  of  our  ethical  nature  point  to  the  objec- 
tive existence  of  a  hierarchy  of  values,  and  these  must 
be  included  in  any  intellectual  system  which  claims  to 
represent  the  whole  truth.  The  difficulty  of  harmonising 
this  valuation  with  the  existential  aspect  of  things  proves 
to  us,  not  that  we  cannot  know  reaUty  at  all,  but  that  we 
know  it  only  in  part.  An  imperfect  experience  cannot 
construct  a  consistent  philosophy. 

Let  us  now  consider  the  results  of  what  we  may  call 
ethical  idealism  in  Protestant  theology.  We  shall  find  our 
documents  mainly  in  the  German  Ritschlian  school. 

The  foundation  of  the  Ritschlian  teaching  is  the  assertion 
of  the  primacy  of  the  ethical  sense.  With  Lotze,  whom 
he  greatly  admired,  Ritschl  held  that  the  foundation  of 
metaphysics  is  to  be  found  in  ethics  :  we  are  to  seek  in 
what  ought  to  be  the  ground  of  what  is.  Like  Lotze,  he 
recognises  in  man  a  faculty  of  forming  value- judgments y 
which  is  of  greater  importance  than  the  *  merely  intellec- 
tual '  view  of  the  world.  These  '  value-judgments '  take, 
in  Ritschl's  philosophy,  the  same  place  which  Schleier- 
macher  gives  to  undifferentiated  feeling.  They  are  the 
ultimate  seat  of  authority.  Both  maintain  that  the  final 
court  of  appeal  is  subjective  experience,  which  is  not  to  be 
checked  by  reference  to  the  outer  world  of  phenomena  ; 
but  while  Schleiermacher's  appeal  was  to  a  vague  senti- 
ment, Ritschl's  is  narrowed  and  made  more  definite — ^his 
supreme  court  is  the  ethical  demand.  In  order  to  preclude 
any  disputes  as  to  the  authority  of  this  one  faculty  to 
decide  everything,  *  metaphysics,'  which  include  all 
'  judgments  of  fact,'  are  declared  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with  rehgion.  *  Religion  and  theoretic  knowledge  are 
distinct  functions,  which  even  when  applied  to  the  same 


156  FAITH  [CH. 

object  do  not  even  partially  coincide,  but  go  totally 
asunder.'  ^  So  harsh  and  intractable  a  dualism  is  only 
tolerable  if  we  resolve  to  treat  one  of  the  two  sides  as  a 
neghgible  quantity.  And  this  is  the  treatment  which 
Ritschlianism  metes  out  to  existential  truth.^  The  proper 
philosophical  position  corresponding  to  this  view  of  the 
world  is  subjective  idealism,  which  some  have  thought  the 
logical  conclusion  from  Lotze's  premisses. 

A  little  more  must  be  said  about  the  famous  doctrine  of 
value- judgments.  According  to  Ritschl,  the  judgments 
which  we  form  on  moral  and  religious  subjects  are  '  in- 
dependent judgments  of  value.'  They  set  forth,  not  the 
objective  nature  and  relation  of  things,  but  only  their 
value  for  v^ — their  fitness  to  satisfy  some  want  of  our  own 
nature.  Religion,  therefore,  has  nothing  to  do  with  ob- 
jective fact ;  truth,  in  this  sphere,  is  purely  pragmatic  and 
teleological.  Ritschl,  however,  shrank  from  the  logical 
conclusion  which  has  been  drawn  by  some  of  the  modern 
psychological  school,  that  God  Himself  has  no  objective 
existence,  or  that  if  He  has.  His  objective  existence  is 
irrelevant  to  religion.  He  somehow  regards  the  existence 
of  God,  and  one  or  two  other  dogmas  which  he  prized,  to  be 
guaranteed  by  the  faculty  of  '  value-judging.'  But  this 
is  a  manifest  trespass.  On  his  principles,  judgments  of 
fact  and  judgments  of  value  can  never  come  in  conflict, 
because  they  are  *  independent '  of  each  other.  But  to 
assert  the  existence  of  God  is  to  make  a  judgment  of 
fact,  not  a  judgment  of  value.  Or  if  we  say  that  value 
guarantees  existence,  that  is  a  judgment  of  fact,  and  the 
whole  character  of  the  philosophy  is  changed  by  the 
transit  from  idealism  to  realism.  On  Ritschl's  principles, 
there  is  no  escape  from  pure  phenomenalism  and  sub- 

1  Quoted  by  Orr,  p.  61. 

2  I'he  school  of  Ritschl  has  split  on  the  theory  of  knowledge.  Herrmann 
is  a  Kantian  ;  Kaftan  is  an  empirical  positivist ;  Bender  was  logical  enough 
to  proclaim  an  uncompromising  subjectivism,  for  which  his  party,  after  a 
heated  controversy,  repudiated  him. 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  157 

jectivism  except  by  a  patent  inconsistency.^  God  is,  on 
E/itschlian  principles,  at  best  a  postulate,  arising  from  the 
Judgment  which  the  human  spirit  makes  of  its  own  wofth. 

You  will  gather  that  in  my  opinion  the  whole  system  is 
ruined  by  its  attempt  to  exclude  '  judgments  of  being  ' — 
science  and  philosophy  in  fact — from  any  part  in  the 
formation  or  determination  of  religious  Faith.  This  is 
partly  the  result  of  a  very  inexcusable  confusion  of  termin- 
ology. Just  as  the  Ritschlians  extend  the  province  of  will, 
to  cover  feeling  and  even  unconscious  instinct,  so  they  limit 
reason  by  regarding  it  as  the  faculty  which  merely  observes 
and  reflects  on  the  causes  of  things.  This  is  psychologically 
incorrect,  and  theologically  disastrous.  The  creative  Reason) 
as  we  learn  from  St.  Paul  and  St.  John,  is  the  immanent 
cause  and  end  of  things.  Without  Reason  the  Will  is  blind 
deaf  and  dumb.  And  the  supreme  exercise  of  the  human 
consciousness,  which  is  to  energise  in  concert  with  this 
creative  Power,  assuredly  contains  an  intellectual  element 
I  shall  show  in  my  next  lecture  that  we  need  by  no  means 
despair  of  reaching  solid  ground  by  means  of  the  intellect. 

Ritschlian  theology  is  generally  as  orthodox  as  it  can 
persuade  itself  to  be,  and  much  more  so,  in  words  at  least, 
than  its  principles  warrant  it  in  being.^  When  set  free 
from  dogmatic  presuppositions,  the  school  of  thought 
which  we  are  now  considering  tends  sometimes  to  the 
metaphysical  (or  rather  epistemological)  theory  called 
pragmatism,  which  we  have  already  discussed  so  far  as 
seemed  necessary  for  our  purpose  ;  and  sometimes  to  a 
purely  moralistic  conception  of  religion.     On  the  whole, 

1  If,  however,  any  friends  of  Ritschl  wish  to  remind  me  that  their  master 
has  also  said  the  exact  opposite,  I  admit  it.  In  the  first  edition  of  his  great 
work  {Rechtfertigung  und  Versohnung,  p,  192)  he  says  :  *  The  acceptance  of 
the  idea  of  God  is  no  practical  faith,  but  an  act  of  theoretic  knowledge.' 
In  the  third  edition  (p.  214)  this  disappears,  and  we  read  :  'The  acceptance 
of  the  idea  of  God  is  practical  faith,  and  not  an  act  of  theoretic  knowledge.' 
The  second  opinion  is  more  in  harmony  with  the  dominant  ideas  of  hia 
system,  which,  however,  is  riddled  with  contradictions  and  inconsistencies. 

2  This  is  especially  true  of  Herrmann,  whose  inconsistency  is  sharply 
rebuked  by  Pfleiderer,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  vol.  ii.  pp.  202,  203. 


168  FAITH  [CH. 

this  theory  of  Faith  appears  in  the  most  favourable  light 
when  it  is  made  to  support  nothing  except  a  system  of 
ethics.  The  ultimate  authority,  on  which  the  whole 
structure  rests,  is  then  the '  categorical  imperative  '  of  Kant, 
the  autonomous  conscience.  ^  The  will  is  king — the  will 
to  obey  conscience,  to  do  right  and  make  the  right  triumph. 
As  a  theory  of  Faith,  it  has  seized  one  side  of  the  truth  ; 
for  the  fundamental  religious  instinct  does  develop,  on  one 
very  important  side,  into  an  imperious  desire  to  shape 
our  surroundings.  The  religious  equivalent  of  the  prag- 
matist's  '  conation  which  determines  truth '  is  the  thirst  for 
God  which  bears  witness  that  it  is  caused  by  God.  Desire 
does  not  determine  truth,  but  truth  does  determine  desire, 
and  makes  itself  known  through  and  as  desire.  But  as  in 
former  chapters,  we  find  here  too  that  one-sidedness  is 
fatal.  I  am  certain  that  one  of  the  great  causes  of  what  are 
called  *  difficulties '  in  the  way  of  Faith  is  the  assumption 
that  the  universe  was  designed  simply  and  solely  as  a 
school  of  moral  disciphne  and  probation  for  human  beings. 
It  appears  to  me  that  this  is  a  survival  of  a  pre-scientific 
view  of  the  universe.  It  was  tenable  when  geocentric 
theories  prevailed ;  it  is  not  tenable  now.  Our  planet, 
and  our  species,  have  no  such  exclusive  importance.  And 
as  for  the  exclusively  moral  character  attributed  to  the 
Deity,  do  we  really  admire  a  character  which  is  exclusively 
moral  ?  Do  we  feel  much  respect  for  one  who  is  blind  to 
all  sense  of  beauty  and  willingly  ignorant  of  all  facts  that 
cannot  at  once  be  converted  into  moral  obUgations  ?    Is 

1  Note  the  following  definition  of  Faith  by  the  Ritschlian  Herrmann  : 
'Religious  Faith  in  God  is,  rightly  understood,  jnst  the  medium  by  which  the 
universal  demand  of  the  moral  law  becomes  individualised  for  the  individual 
man  in  his  particular  place  in  the  world's  life,  so  as  to  enable  him  to  recognise 
its  absoluteness  on  the  ground  of  his  self-certainty,  and  the  ideal  drawn  in  it 
as  his  own  personal  end.'  Thus  God  vanishes  in  the  moral  order  of  the  world 
and  religion  in  morality.  This  however,  was  not  Ritschl's  own  position  :  he 
distinguishes  between  religion  and  morals,  and  conjpares  Christianity  to  an 
elliptical  figure  revolving  round  those  two  foci.  But  this  part  of  his  system 
— one  of  his  many  illogical  concessions — seems  to  me  of  very  little  interest 
or  importance. 


IX.]  FAITH  AS  AN  ACT  OF  WILL  159 

it  really  a  worthy  or  a  possible  conception  of  God,  that  He 
is  interested  only  in  conduct,  and  is  destitute  of  anything 
corresponding  to  what  in  us  are  called  intellectual  and 
aesthetic  interests  ?  If  we  wish  to  beUeve  in  such  a  Deity, 
we  are  certainly  wise  to  construct  a  world  for  ourselves 
out  of  our  wishes  and  sentiments,  for  the  real  world  will 
contradict  our  belief  at  every  turn. 

The  limitations  of  exclusive  moralism  are  very  apparent. 
It  is  an  irrational  type,  since  it  has  no  standard  except 
the  moral  consciousness.  It  will  not  even  ask  why  things 
are  right  or  wrong ;  and  so  it  often  confounds  things  in- 
different with  things  morally  wrong,  and  erects  senseless 
puritanical  tabus.  It  rejects  happiness  and  beauty  as 
objects,  and  lays  a  coarse  and  heavy  hand  on  the  beauti- 
ful things  of  the  world.  It  is  apt  to  be  hard  and 
unsympathetic,  and  does  not  escape  a  sort  of  sour 
worldliness. 

Matthew  Arnold  calls  this  type  the  Hebraic,  as  opposed 
to  the  Hellenic,  which  represents  the  intellectual  and 
artistic  ideals  of  Ufe.  He  accuses  his  fellow-countrymen 
of  following  the  Hebrew  ideal  too  exclusively,  and  neglect- 
ing the  Hellenic.  Santayana,  in  speaking  of  the  typically 
Protestant  civilisation,  brings  a  similar  indictment  in 
clever  satirical  form.  *  Protestantism  is  convinced  of" 
the  importance  of  success  and  prosperity  ;  it  abominates 
what  is  disreputable  ;  contemplation  seems  to  it  idleness, 
solitude  selfishness,  and  poverty  a  sort  of  dishonourable 
punishment.  It  is  constrained  and  punctilious  in  righteous- 
ness ;  it  regards  a  married  and  industrious  life  as  typically 
godly,  and  there  is  a  sacredness  to  it,  as  of  a  vacant 
Sabbath,  in  the  unoccupied  higher  spaces  which  such  an 
existence  leaves  for  the  soul.  It  lacks  the  notes  of  dis- 
illusion, humility,  and  speculative  detachment.  Its  bene- 
volence is  optimistic  and  aims  at  raising  men  to  a  conven- 
tional well-being ;  it  thus  misses  the  inner  appeal  of 
Christianity,  which  begins  by  renunciation  and  looks  to 


160  FAITH  [CH. 

spiritual  freedom  and  peace.  ...  It  is  a  part  of  Protes- 
tantism to  be  austere,  energetic,  unwearied  in  some  laborious 
task.  The  end  and  profit  are  not  so  much  regarded  as  the 
mere  habit  of  self-control  and  practical  devotion  and 
steadiness.  The  point  is  to  accompUsh  something,  no 
matter  what ;  so  that  Protestants  show  on  this  ground 
some  respect  even  for  an  artist — when  he  has  once  achieved 
success.'^ 

Such  are  some  of  the  fruits  of  making  Faith  exclusively 
an  act  of  the  will,  or  moral  sense.  In  my  next  lecture  I 
shall  show  how  the  prevailing  distrust  of  theoretical  con- 
structions has  given  birth  to  a  peculiar  kind  of  empiricism 
in  religion,  which  has  produced  rather  startling  develop- 
ments in  the  Romai.  Church. 

(  Santajana,  Reascm  in  Religion,  p,  114^ 


X.1  FAITH  BASED  ON  PEACTICAL  NEEDS  ICl 


CHAPTER  X 

FAITH  BASED   ON   PRACTICAL   NEEDS — MODERNISM 

The  rulers  of  the  Roman  Church  have  always  fully  recog- 
nised the  great  influence  of  Faith  upon  conduct,  and  have 
paid  careful  attention  to  the  formation  of  beliefs.  The 
whole  educational  method  of  Romanism  assumes  quite 
frankly  that  it  is  desirable  to  prejudice  the  minds  of  the 
young  in  favour  of  certain  beliefs,  and  that  it  is  justifiable 
to  use  almost  any  means  to  strengthen  and  confirm  them. 
The  mind  of  the  child,  under  Catholicism,  is  moulded  into 
a  particular  shape  almost  from  his  cradle  ;  even  in  the  ele- 
mentary school-room  he  is  not  allowed  to  breathe  a  non- 
Catholic  atmosphere  ;  and  in  mature  life  he  is  forbidden  to 
question,  even  in  thought,  what  his  Church  has  taught  him. 
In  many  cases  this  system  is  as  successful  in  producing 
the  type  of  character  desired  as  Sandow's  gymnastic 
course  is  in  producing  a  muscular  frame.  The  Catholic 
lives  and  dies  in  an  untroubled  assurance  that  he  has 
possession  of  the  truth  ;  he  performs  a  number  of  actions, 
some  morally  estimable,  others  morally  indifferent,  some 
perhaps  morally  flagitious,  in  obedience  to  his  directors, 
and  abstains  from  others.  Like  a  hothouse  flower,  he 
blooms  luxuriantly  when  carefully  shielded  from  the 
rude  winds  of  free  thought  and  free  discussion. 

Catholicism  is  best  regarded  as  an  art  of  holiness.  The 
theory  and  method  of  the  system  are  those  of  all  artistic 
training.  The  disciplr  wishes  to  acquire  certain  aptitudes 
— in  this  case,  a  certain  kind  of  character — and  he  puts 
himself  under  the  care  of  trained  experts  who  tell  him  how 

L 


162  FAITH  [oh. 

the  desired  result  is  to  be  attained.  The  young  painter 
does  not  enquire  whether  the  relation  between  his  pig- 
ments and  the  object  which  he  is  trying  to  copy  is  '  real ' 
or  '  apparent '  ;  he  is  content  if  he  can  produce  the  effect 
of  a  tree  or  river  upon  his  canvas.  A  sham  relic  or  miracle 
is  as  good  as  a  real  one  in  stimulating  emotion,  if  it  is 
believed  in.  And  the  promised  results  do  follow.  The 
Catholic  discipline  does  produce  peace  of  mind  and  self- 
control  ;  it  economises  energy  by  prohibiting  experiments  ; 
it  counteracts  the  effect  of  individual  weakness,  and 
utilises  one  line  at  least  of  racial  experience. 

The  merits  and  defects  of  this  system  have  been  already 
considered  under  the  head  of  Authority.  Here  we  have 
only  to  note  its  pragmatic  character  in  all  that  falls  outside 
religious  truth.  It  is  so  much  more  important  to  avoid 
sin  than  to  have  correct  opinions  on  scientific  matters, 
that  error  and  even  imposture  will  often  be  encouraged 
in  the  interest  of  beHef  and  conduct. 

And  yet  Catholicism  can  never  acquiesce  in  the  subjec- 
tivism and  anti-intellectualism  of  the  philosophy  which  we 
have  just  been  discussing.  Catholic  theology  is  built  on  a 
foundation  of  Greek  philosophy,  and  is  intimately  connected 
with  the  transcendental  realism  of  Plato  and  Plotinus, 
modified  but  not  contradicted  by  the  study  of  Aristotle. 
The  Roman  Church  has  anathematised  the  Kantian  doc- 
trine which  confines  our  knowledge  to  phenomena;  it  asserts 
that  the  being  and  attributes  of  God  may  be  proved  intel- 
lectually. The  active  intervention  of  God  in  human  affairs 
is  rescued  from  the  clutches  of  the  mechanical  sciences, 
not  by  scepticism  about  the  objective  existence  of  the  phe- 
nomenal world,  but  by  behef  in  the  supernatural.  Belief  in 
miracle,  not  only  certain  miracles  in  the  past,  guaranteed 
by  authority,  but  in  miracle  as  a  part  of  the  constitution  of 
the  world,  is  an  essential  part  of  Catholicism.  The  Catholic 
view  of  the  world  is  a  modified  realism,  within  which  it 
is  possible  to  distinguish  two  '  orders/  the  natural  and  the 


X.]  FAITH  BASED  ON  PKACTICAL  NEEDS  163 

supernatural,  interacting  on  the  same  plane.  The  Church 
has  left  to  its  philosophers  great  latitude  in  attempting  to 
determine  the  relations  of  the  time-process  to  eternity, 
and  has  never  shrunk  from  crude  pictorial  images  in  its 
exoteric  teaching.  But  it  has  consistently  refused  either 
to  accept  idealism,  in  the  post-Kantian  sense,  or  to  abandon 
the  supernaturalism  which  forms  the  connecting  link 
between  God  and  nature. 

Modem  science  has  inflicted  a  grievous  wound  upon  this 
system  by  its  denial  of  the  miraculous.  The  nature  of  the 
quarrel  between  science  and  Catholic  orthodoxy,  on  this 
head,  is  often  misunderstood.  Apologists  are  pleased 
when  they  find  that  wonderful  cases  of  *  mind-cure ' 
can  be  substantiated.  But  this  line  of  defence  can  only 
prove  that  a  few  alleged  miracles  are  not  miraculous,  not 
that  any  miracles  are  true  or  possible.  What  is  necessary 
for  Catholicism  is  to  prove  the  intercalation  of  the  genuinely 
supernatural  with  the  natural,  and  this  would  be  a  refuta- 
tion of  the  uniformity  of  natural  law,  the  working  hypothe- 
sis of  all  the  sciences.  The  scientific  habit  of  mind,  with 
its  exacting  rule  of  testimony,  has  become  so  general 
that  belief  in  miracles  grows  harder  every  year.  There  are 
still  a  good  many  people  who  are  unable  or  unwilling  tdi 
separate  Wahrheit  and  Dichtung,  truth  of  fact  from  imagina-i 
tive  representation  ;  but  their  number  dwindles,  and  those 
who  retain  the  old  beHefs  on  aesthetic  grounds  are  less 
earnest  defenders  of  the  faith  than  the  genuinely  super- 
stitious ;  their  reUgion  is  little  more  than  a  mode  of  refined 
enjoyment.  This  blow  has  fallen  with  the  greatest 
severity  on  the  ecclesiastical  machinery.  The  sacerdotal 
and  sacramental  system  of  the  Catholic  Church  is  based  on 
supernatural  mechanism — on  divine  interventions  in  the 
physical  world  conditioned  by  human  agency.  If  these 
interventions  do  not  take  place,  almost  all  tha  makes 
Catholicism  attractive  to  the  laity  and  lucrative  to  the 
hierarchy  has  vanished. 


164  FAITH  [cH. 

It  was  only  to  be  expected  that  intelligent  priests  in 
the  Roman  Church,  who  understand  the  gravity  of  the 
situation,  should  endeavour  to  find  a  sounder  basis  for 
Catholic  truth  than  this  discredited  theory  of  supernatural 
interventions.  We  have  seen  that  there  is  much  in  the 
CathoHc  view  of  life  which  is  in  sympathy  with  prag- 
matism, and  that  the  sceptical  Nominalists  of  the  Middle 
Ages  came  very  near  to  this  theory  of  knowledge.  Accord- 
ingly, it  was  inevitable  that  the  suggestion  should  be 
made  that  the  traditional  reahsm  of  CathoHc  apologetics 
should  be  abandoned ;  and  that  by  reducing  the  external 
world  to  a  mere  system  of  instruments,  arranged  by  the 
human  mind  for  its  own  purposes,  relief  might  be  found 
for  distressed  faith.  On  this  hypothesis,  there  is  no  sacred- 
ness  or  inviolability  in  natural  laws,  in  and  for  themselves. 
They  are  approximately  true,  as  diagrams  of  everchanging 
phenomena,  fixed,  for  purposes  of  observation,  in  a  series 
of  discontinuous  pictures,  like  the  successive  scenes  of  a 
cinematograph.  But  even  if  the  theoretical  abstractions 
of  the  intellect  corresponded  accurately  to  concrete  fact, 
which  is  not  the  case,  what  is  the  understanding  but  the 
tool  and  instrument  of  the  will  ?  We  want  to  know 
only  in  order  that  we  may  act  and  live.  These  static 
laws,  of  which  we  have  made  such  bug-bears,  are  of  very 
subordinate  importance.  The  real  world  is  the  world  of 
will  and  feeling,  the  world  of  action  ;  and  if  religious 
truths — the  dogmas  of  the  Church — are  found  to  belong 
to  this  sphere,  and  not  to  the  inferior  order  of  existential 
fact,  that  is  only  what  we  should  expect  and  desire  to  hear 
about  them. 

The  philosophical  defence  of  the  Modernist  position  has 
been  conducted  mainly  by  Frenchmen,  among  whom  Le 
Roy  ^  and  Laberthonniere  ^  may  be  named.    As  CathoHcs, 


1  Dogme  et  Oritique. 

•  Le  Ji£alisme  Chretien  et  VId4alisine  Grec;  Essais  de  phUoaophie  religieuse. 


X.]  FAITH  BASED  ON  PEACTICAL  NEEDS  165 

these  writers  are  anxious  not  to  be  classed  as  Kantians, 
since  the  name  of  Kant  is  obnoxious  to  the  Roman  Church ; 
and  in  truth  they  do  not  define  their  philosophical  position 
very  clearly.  In  Laberthonniere  it  takes  the  form  of  a 
revolt  against  '  Greek  idealism,'  which,  he  considers,  was 
occupied  with  things,  while  Christianity  is  occupied  with 
life.  The  Greek  asked,  What  are  things  ?  The  Christian 
asks.  Whence  came  I,  and  whither  go  I  ?  The  Greeks  were 
insatiable  in  their  desire  to  see  and  know ;  and  in  conse- 
quence Greek  morahty  is  only  an  aspect  of  metaphysics. 
For  the  Greek,  evil  is  ignorance  ;  good  is  truth,  and  truth 
is  the  adequate  representation  of  things.  To  think  is 
everything,  because  thought  is  sight  par  excellence.  So 
came  into  existence  the  Greek  philosophy  of  concepts. 
Plato  and  Aristotle  are  agreed  in  the  service  which  they 
demand  of  their  '  Ideas.'  It  is  by  them  that  they  find  the 
one  in  the  multiple,  and  the  stable  in  the  mobile.  These 
ideas  are  not  our  ideas  but  eternal  essences,  the  determina- 
tions of  which  we  receive  without  putting  anything  into 
them  ourselves.  Thus  Greek  philosophy  is  an  intellec- 
tuaHsm  or  rationaKsm.  It  begins  with  the  desire  to  think 
and  see,  and  so  it  ends  with  a  world  of  ideas.  To  enter 
into  the  unchanging  intelhgible  world  is  salvation.  Thought 
is  the  beginning,  middle,  and  end  of  fife. 

The  fact  of  individuafity,  says  Laberthonniere,  always 
embarrassed  the  Greek  thinkers.  The  individual  was 
something  which  ought  not  to  exist.  They  longed  to  wipe 
out  all  dividing  lines.  Theirs  was  a  *  static  '  ideal,  good 
only  to  contemplate.  But  an  ideal  which  can  be  thus 
contemplated  is  necessarily  an  impoverished  view  of  reality, 
because  it  is  like  a  photograph  of  something  which  is  always 
in  motion.  It  gives  us  a  picture  of  movement  stiffened 
into  unnatural  immobility  ;  we  contemplate  a  picture, 
which  can  only  give  us  some  aspects,  and  perhaps  not  the 
most  significant,  of  the  living,  changing  reality.  Greek 
philosophy  provides  us  neither  with  a  science  of  origins 


166  FAITH  [cH. 

nor  a  science  of  ends.  It  attaches  itself  to  forms  only. 
Hence  follows  a  sovereign  indifference  to  the  accidents  of 
life  and  the  events  of  history  ;  for  whoever  can  think,  can 
always  contemplate  '  the  ideas '  in  their  unchanging  har- 
mony and  beauty.  This  indifference,  which  antiquity 
praised,  is  the  enemy  of  charity  and  of  progress. 

After  this  indictment  of  the  great  Greek  thinkers,  our 
Modernist  proceeds  to  contrast  with  *  Greek  idealism  * 
the  genius  of  Christianity.  Christianity  is  preoccupied 
with  life,  not  with  things.  It  is  not  a  system  of  ideas, 
fixed  and  unchanging,  above  the  changing  reality  of  the 
world,  but  it  is  constituted  by  events  occupying  a  place 
in  the  time-series.  It  is  itself  a  history,  and  the  history 
is  itself  a  doctrine,  a  concrete  doctrine.  The  Bible 
explains  the  facts  of  history  by  stating  them  in  their 
'  dynamic '  relations — e.g.  investing  the  figure  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  with  the  attributes  proper  to  the  founder 
of  a  great  Church,  such  as  He  actually  did  found,  though 
without  intending  it.  The  inspired  historian  *  looked 
higher '  than  literal  fact ;  he  narrates  history  in  the  Hght 
of  his  knowledge  of  the  whole  drama,  of  which  he  is  only 
giving  us  the  first  act.  Christ  is  not  simply  an  object  of 
historic  certitude  ;  he  is  also  an  object  of  Faith.  And  it  is 
the  latter  aspect  which  is  of  practical  importance. 

At  this  point  the  Modernists  divide  ;  it  is  impossible  to 
attribute  to  them  as  a  body  any  one  doctrine  about  the 
historical  side  of  Christianity.  They  desire,  for  the  most 
part,  that  criticism  rather  than  philosophy  should  be 
regarded  as  the  starting-point  of  the  movement.  The 
authors  of  The  Programme  of  Modernism  (p.  16)  say  :  '  So 
far  from  our  philosophy  dictating  our  critical  method,  it  is 
the  critical  method  that  has  of  its  own  accord  forced  us  to 
a  very  tentative  and  uncertain  formulation  of  various 
philosophical  conclusions.'  But,  in  point  of  fact,  some 
members  of  the  school  are  primarily  philosophical  tlieo- 
logians,  while  others  are  primarily  critics.     And  it  is  the 


FAirH  BASED  ON  PRACTICAL  NEEDS  167 

specialists  in  Biblical  criticism  who  are  the  most  radical 
members  of  the  school.^ 

Laberthomiiere  sounds  an  uncertain  note  ^  on  the  value 
of  the  historical  facts  narrated  in  the  Gospels.  But  there 
is  no  hesitation  or  obscurity  about  M.  Loisy's  attitude. 
The  Gospels,  he  says,  are  hke  the  Pentateuch,  a  patchwork 
of  history  and  legend.  Even  the  Synoptics  contradict 
each  other.  In  Mark  the  life  of  Jesus  follows  a  progressive 
development.  The  first  to  infer  his  Messiahship  is  Simon 
Peter  at  Csesarea  Philippi ;  and  Jesus  Himself  first  declares 
it  openly  in  His  trial  before  the  Sanhedrim.  In  Matthew 
and  Luke,  on  the  contrary,  Jesus  is  presented  to  the  public 
as  the  Son  of  God  from  the  beginning  of  His  ministry  ; 
He  comes  forward  at  once  as  the  supreme  Lawgiver,  the 
Judge,  the  anointed  of  God.  The  Fourth  Gospel  goes 
further  still.  His  heavenly  origin,  His  priority  to  the 
world,  His  co-operation  in  the  work  of  creation  and 
salvation,  are  ideas  which  are  foreign  to  the  other  Gospels, 
but  which  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  has  set  forth  in 
his  Prologue,  and  in  part  put  into  the  mouth  of  John  the 
Baptist.  The  difference  between  the  Christ  of  the  Synoptic 
Gospels  and  the  Christ  of  John  may  be  summed  up  by 
saying  that  *  the  Clirist  of  the  Synoptics  is  historical,  but 
not  God ;  the  Johannine  Christ  is  divine,  but  not  his- 
torical.' 

Even  Mark,  M.  Loisy  thinks,  probably  only  incorporates 
an  eyewitness  document.  The  Gospel  which  bears  his 
name  was  issued,  probably  about  fifteen  years  later  than 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  by  a  non-Palestinian  Chris- 
tian, who  Uved  perhaps  at  Rome.  The  Gospel  of  Matthew 
was  written  by  a  non-Palestinian  Jew  who  lived  in  Asia 
Minor  or  Syria,  about  the  beginning  of  the  second  century. 
He  writes  in  the  interest  of  Catholic  ecclesiasticism,  and 
may  well  have  been  a  presbyter  or  bishop  who  wished  to 

1  Cf.  my  article  on  *  Modernism '  iu  the  Quarterly  Review  foi  April  1909, 
s  Compare  p.  60  and  p.  60  of  his  H^alisme  Chretien. 


168  FAITH  [CH. 

advocate  the  monarchic  episcopate.  The  chapters  about 
the  birth  of  Christ  seem  not  to  have  the  sHghtest  historical 
foundation.  The  story  of  the  Virgin  Birth  turns  on  a  mis- 
understood text  of  Isaiah.  Of  this  part  of  the  Gospel 
Loisy  says,  '  Rien  n'est  plus  arbitraire  comme  exegese,  ni 
plus  faible  comme  narration  Active.'  The  Third  Gospel, 
he  proceeds,  was  probably  written  in  the  last  decade  of  the 
first  century  ;  but  the  first  edition,  which  traced  the  descent 
of  Christ  through  Joseph  from  David,  has  been  tampered 
with  in  the  interests  of  the  later  idea  of  a  Virgin  Birth. 
As  for  the  Fourth  Gospel,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  the  author 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  son  of  Zebedee,  and  that  he  is 
in  no  sense  a  biographer  of  Christ,  but  the  first  and  greatest 
of  the  Christian  mystics. 

We  have  then,  according  to  M.  Loisy,  only  very  corrupt 
sources  for  a  biography  of  Christ.  And  the  only  chance 
of  reconstructing  the  actual  events  lies  in  forming  a  mental 
picture  of  the  Galilean  Prophet,  and  rejecting  all  that  fails 
to  correspond  to  it.  This  picture,  for  M.  Loisy,  is  that  of 
an  enthusiastic  peasant,  '  of  Umited  intelligence,'  who  came 
to  fancy  Himself  the  Messiah,  and  met  His  death  in  a  fool- 
hardy and  pathetic  attempt  to  proclaim  a  theocracy  at 
Jerusalem.  Any  statements  in  the  Gospels  which  contra- 
dict this  theory  are  summarily  rejected  in  the  name  of 
what  the  Germans  call  Wirklichkeitssinn.  The  guillotine 
falls  upon  them  and  there  is  an  end  of  it.  The  Resurrection 
is  of  course  dismissed  as  unworthy  of  discussion.  The 
corpse  of  Jesus  was  thrown,  with  those  of  the  two  brigands, 
into  *  quelque  fosse  commune,*  and  '  the  conditions  of  burial 
were  such  that  after  a  few  days  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible to  recognise  the  remains  of  the  Saviour,  if  any  one 
had  thought  of  looking  for  them.'  ^  The  disciples,  however, 
had  been  too  profoundly  stirred  by  hope  to  accept  defeat. 
They  hardly  reaHsed  that  their  Master  was  dead  ;  they  had 
fled  to  their  homes  before  the  last  scene  ;  and  besides,  the.y 
1  Loisy,  Let  ivangiles  Synoptigues,  chap.  vii. 


X.]  FAITH  BASED  ON  PKACTICAL  NEEDS  169 

were  fellow-countrymen  of  those  who  thought  it  quite 
possible  that  Jesus  was  John  the  Baptist  come  to  life 
again.  What  more  natural  than  that  Peter  should  see  his 
Master  one  day  while  fishing  on  the  lake  ?  '  The  impulse 
once  given,  the  belief  grew  by  the  very  need  which  it  had 
to  strengthen  itself.'  Christ  soon  appeared  also  to  '  the 
eleven.'  So  their  faith  brought  them  back  to  Jerusalem, 
and  the  Christian  Church  was  bom. 

*  The  supernatural  life  of  Christ  in  the  faithful  and  in 
the  Church  has  been  clothed  in  a  historical  form,  which 
has  given  birth  to  what  we  might  somewhat  loosely  call 
the  Christ  of  legend.'  *  Such  a  criticism  does  away  with 
the  possibility  of  finding  in  Christ's  teachiag  even  the 
embryonic  form  of  the  Church's  later  theological  teaching.'  ^ 
The  Christ  whom  the  Church  worships  is  the  product  of 
Christian  Faith  and  love.  He  is  a  purely  ideal  figure  ;  and 
it  betrays  a  total  absence  of  the  historical  sense,  and  a 
total  inability  to  distinguish  between  things  so  essentially 
different  as  Faith  and  fact,  to  seek  for  His  likeness  in  the 
Prophet  of  Nazareth. 

This  new  apologetic  is  likely  to  take  away  the  breath  of 
the  ordinary  Christian  believer.  The  Modernist  professes 
himself  ready  to  admit  not  only  all  that  a  sane  and  im- 
partial criticism  might  demand  with  reference  to  the 
Gospel  history,  but  the  most  fantastic  theories  of  the 
destructive  school.  And  then,  having  cheerfully  surren- 
dered the  whole  citadel  of  orthodox  apologetics,  he  turns 
round  and  says  that  nothing  is  lost — that  for  his  part  he 
claims  to  be  treated  as  a  good  son  of  the  Church,  and 
wishes  to  be  allowed  to  recite  her  creeds  and  observe 
her  discipline.  Let  us  see  how  he  seeks  to  justify  this 
position. 

I  have  already  (in  speaking  of  Church  authority)  said 
something  about  the  Modernist  theory  of  development. 
The  Church  is  made  to  take  the  place  of  Christ.    It  is  the 

1  The  Programme  of  Modernism,  pp.  82,  83,  90. 


170  FAITH  [cH. 

life  of  the  Church  which  constitutes  Christianity.  This 
great  institution  has  had  to  Hve  in  the  world,  and  to  adapt 
itself,  like  every  other  organism,  to  its  environment.  '  If,' 
says  M.  Loisy,  '  Christianity  is  made  to  consist  in  Faith  in 
God  as  our  Father,  which  is  the  extreme  form  of  the  anti- 
CathoHc  and  Protestant  idea,  all  the  hierarchical,  dogmatic, 
and  ritual  development  of  the  Church  falls  outside  true 
Christianity,  and  appears  as  a  progressive  deterioration  of 
the  religion.'  ^  But  these  developments  were  all  necessary, 
if  the  Church  was  to  survive  ;  and  since  we  may  presume 
that  Jesus  wished  His  society  to  survive,  we  may  say 
that  He  would  have  approved  whatever  was  necessary  to 
be  done,  in  order  that  the  Church,  in  saving  itself,  might 
save  His  Gospel.^  '  To  reproach  the  CathoUc  Church  with 
the  developments  of  its  constitution  is  to  reproach  it  for 
having  lived.'  ^  It  is  very  unlike  the  society  which  Jesus 
gathered  round  Him  ;  but  what  of  that  ?  When  you  want 
to  convince  yourself  of  the  identity  of  an  individual,  you  do 
not  try  to  squeeze  him  into  his  cradle.* 

The  right  of  change  and  self-adaptation  is  not  confined 
to  the  externals  of  government  and  ritual.  Dogmas  are 
only  the  images  of  truth,  not  as  it  is  in  itself,  but  as  it 
appears  to  our  minds.  And  if  they  wear  out,  as  they  do 
sometimes,  or  cease  to  be  helpful,  they  may  be  altered 
without  scruple.  The  value  of  symbols  (and  all  dogma  is 
symbolic)  depends  solely  on  the  sense  which  we  attach  to 
them ;  in  themselves  they  are  nothing.  And  the  sense 
which  we  attach  to  them  is  above  all  a  practical  sense. 
'  A  dogma  proclaims,  above  all,  a  prescription  of  practical 
order ;  it  is  the  formula  of  a  rule  of  practical  conduct.'  ^ 
Religion  is  not  an  intellectual  adhesion  to  a  system  of 
speculative  propositions.  '  Why  then  should  we  not  bring 
theory  into  harmony  with  practice  ?  '  ^ 

»  Loisy,  L'ivangiU  et  realise,  p.  127.  '  I^'d. .  p.  138. 

» Ibid.,  p.  154.  « Ibid.,  p.  lea 

■  Le  Roy,  Dogme  et  Critique,  p.  25.  •  Ibid. 


JL]  FAITH  BASED  ON  PRACTICAL  NEEDS  171 

Le  Roy  gives  us  some  examples  of  this  Catholic  prag- 
matism. When  we  say,  *  God  is  personal,'  we  mean, 
'  behave  in  our  relations  with  God  as  you  do  in  your  rela- 
tions with  a  human  person.'  When  we  say,  *  Jesus  is  risen 
from  the  dead,'  we  mean,  *  treat  Him  as  if  He  were  your 
contemporary.'  Similarly,  the  doctrine  of  the  Real 
Presence  means  that  we  should  take,  in  presence  of  the 
consecrated  elements,  the  same  attitude  as  we  should  in 
presence  of  the  actual  Jesus. 

His  main  theses  may  be  summed  up  in  his  own  words. 
*  The  current  intellectualist  conception  renders  insoluble 
most  of  the  objections  which  are  now  raised  against  the 
idea  of  dogma.  A  doctrine  of  the  primacy  of  action,  on 
the  contrary,  permits  us  to  solve  the  problem  without 
abandoning  anything  of  the  rights  of  thought,  or  of  the 
exigencies  of  dogma.'  ^  M.  Le  Roy  shows  in  the  sequel 
that  he  '  saves '  dogma  by  separating  it  entirely  from 
scientific  fact.  He  regards  all  theological  and  dogmatic 
propositions  as  principles  of  action,  not  statements  of  fact, 
and  then  argues  that  since  on  every  page  he  proclaims  that 
action  is  more  important  than  thought,  and  the  dynamic 
aspect  of  things  of  higher  worth  than  the  static,  he  has 
triumphantly  vindicated  the  claims  of  dogma  against  un- 
believing rationalism.  *A  dogma,'  he  says,  *is  a  truth 
belonging  to  the  vital  order ;  it  presents  its  object  under 
the  forms  of  the  action  commanded  to  us  by  it,  and  the 
obligation  to  adhere  to  it  concerns  properly  its  practical 
significance,  its  vital  value.'  ^ 

What,  then,  is  the  value  and  meaning  of  the  scientific 
truth  which  M.  Le  Roy  is  so  eager  to  reduce  to  its  proper 
insignificance  ?  It  would  really  seem  as  if  it  had  none, 
except  what  we  choose  to  put  into  it.  *  No  fact  has  any 
existence  and  scientific  value  except  in  and  by  a  theory, 
whence  it  follows  that  strictly  speaking  it  is  the  savant 
who  makes  the  scientific  facts.'  ^ 

1  Le  Roy,  Dogme  et  Critique,  p.  34.        «  IMd.t  p.  91.        «  /Md.^  p.  334. 


172  FAITH  [cH. 

There  is  a  great  resemblance  between  the  position  of 
M.  Le  Roy  and  that  of  our  leading  English  Modernist, 
Mr.  Tyrrell.  '  The  world  of  appearance,'  he  says,^  '  is 
simply  subordinate  and  instrumental  to  the  real  world  of 
our  will  and  affections  ^  in  which  we  live  the  life  of  love  and 
hate,  and  pass  from  one  will-attitude  to  another  in  relation 
to  other  wills  than  our  own.  .  .  .  Jn  this  region  truth 
has  a  practical  and  teleological  sense — it  is  the  trueness 
of  a  means  to  an  end,  of  an  instrument  to  its  purpose  ; 
and  like  these  truths  it  is  to  some  extent  conditioned  by 
what  we  know  and  believe  about  its  object.  .  .  .  Hence 
the  religiously  important  criticism  to  be  applied  to  points 
of  Christian  belief,  whether  historical,  philosophic,  or 
scientific,  is  not  that  which  interests  the  historian,  philo- 
sopher, or  scientist,  but  that  which  is  supplied  by  the 
spirit  of  Christ.  Does  the  belief  make  for  the  love  of  God 
and  man  ?  Does  it  show  us  the  Father  and  reveal  to  us 
our  sonship  ? '  The  truth  of  the  creed  is  a  practical  or 
regulative  truth.  It  is  serviceable  to  life,  and  therefore 
cannot  be  a  mere  fiction,  for  no  he  can  be  serviceable  to 
life  on  an  universal  scale.  *  Beliefs  that  have  been  found 
to  foster  and  promote  the  spiritual  life  of  the  soul  must 
so  far  be  in  accordance  with  the  nature  and  the  laws  of 
that  will-world  with  which  it  is  the  aim  of  religion  to  bring 
us  into  harmony  :  their  practical  value  results  from,  and 
is  founded  in,  their  representative  value.'  Our  assurance 
of  their  truth  r^sts  on  '  the  imiversally  proved  value  of  the 
creed  as  a  practical  guide — the  consensus  of  the  ethical 
and  religious  orhis  terrarum*  * 

*  The  rule  of  prayer  is  the  rule  of  belief.'  This  means 
that  what  alone  concerns  us  is  to  realise  the  '  prayer- 
value  '  of  the  various  articles  in  the  creed.     For  instance, 

1  Tyrrell,  Lex  Orandi,  chap.  viii.  (abridged). 

•  Note  the  characteristic  confusion  of  the  will  and  the  aflfections, 

•  An  excellent  example  of  the  Catholic  peiitio  principii.  The  Roman 
Church  constitutes  the  ethical  and  religious  orhis  terrartaii.  The  Roman 
Church  finds  its  dogmas  practically  valuable.  Therefore  the  universal  valu« 
of  the  dogmas  to  ethics  and  religion  if  proved. 


X.]  FAITH  BASED  ON  PRACTICAL  NEEDS  173 

the  belief  in  God  has  been  fashioned  by  the  religious  needs 
of  man's  nature.^  The  puzzle  about  free-will  means  that 
our  will  belongs  to  the  world  of  realities,  whereas  our 
understanding  can  represent  things  only  in  terms  of  the 
world  of  appearances. 2  '  The  understanding  is  but  an 
instrument  fashioned  by  the  will  to  serve  as  a  guide  to 
life  and  action.'  ^  '  The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  is  the 
creation  of  love  and  life.'  *  '  While  Christianity  with  its 
Trinity  of  divine  Persons,  its  God  made  man,  its  pantheon 
of  divinised  men  and  women,  is  open  to  the  superficial 
charge  of  being  a  reversion  to  the  pagan  polytheistic  type, 
it  is  rather  to  be  regarded  as  taking  up  into  a  higher 
synthesis  those  advantages  of  polytheism  which  had  to  be 
sacrificed  for  the  greater  advantages  of  a  too  abstract  and 
soul-starving  monotheism.'  ^  The  *  facts  of  religious 
history  must,  as  matters  of  Faith,  be  determined  by  the 
criterion  of  Faith,  i.e.  by  their  proved  religious  values.'  ^ 
*  A  man  will  be  justified  in  holding  to  the  facts  until  he  is 
convinced  that  their  religious  value  is  in  no  way  imperilled 
by  the  results  of  historical  criticism.'  *  Mistakings  of 
faith-values  for  fact-values  are  to  be  ascribed  to  the 
almost  ineradicable  materialism  of  the  human  mind  which 
makes  us  view  the  visible  world  as  the  only  solid  reality.'  ^ 
Enough  has  now  been  said  to  show  what  form  prag- 
matism takes  in  the  Roman  Church.  M.  le  Roy  says  very 
truly,  that  the  ordinary  Roman  Catholic  '  lives  pragmatism' 
to  a  much  larger  extent  than  he  reahses.  He  chooses 
among  the  doctrines  of  his  Church  those  which  appeal  to 
him,  and  passively  accepts  the  rest,  without  making  them 
part  of  his  religion.  He  may  even  try  experiments  at  one 
shrine  after  another.  The  Madonna  of  Lourdes  may  be 
kind,  though  her  namesake  at  La  Salette  is  difficult ;    if 

1  Lex  Orandi,  p.  73.  «  Ihid. ,  p.  87. 

8  7&tU,p.  98.  *  Ibid, -p.  100. 

5  P.  149.    This  is  again  a  characteristic  utterance  which  shows  the  vast  gulf 
between  Koman  Catholicism  and  other  forms  of  Christianity. 
«  P.  169.  7  P.  191. 


174  FAITH  [cH. 

St.  Anne  is  not  sufficiently  attentive  to  his  supplications, 
he  may  try  St.  Joseph.  Moreover,  the  whole  Roman 
Church  has,  in  point  of  fact,  lived  and  thriven  by  self- 
adaptation  very  much  as  the  Modernists  say.  Certainly 
it  may  seem  a  strange  *  note '  of  divine  assistance,  that  a 
Church  should  be  obliged  to  change  like  a  chameleon  in 
self-defence  ;  but  it  is  a  tenable  view  that  since  Rome 
became  less  pHant  and  receptive,  she  has  lost  ground 
everywhere.  And  pragmatism  may  be  called  in  to  explain 
accommodations  which  would  otherwise  be  rather  difficult 
to  justify.  Nevertheless,  I  believe  this  method  of  apolo- 
getics to  be  fundamentally  unsound,  when  applied,  as  the 
Modernists  apply  it,  to  justify  their  own  position  in  the 
Roman  Church.  It  is  plain  that  the  *  facts  of  reUgion ' 
are  no  facts  for  them.  M.  Loisy's  Jesus  may  have  been  a 
more  respectable  Messiah  than  Theudas,  but  he  belongs  to 
the  same  category.  There  has  been,  after  all,  a  real  breach 
of  continuity,  and  no  mere  development,  in  the  Church  as 
they  conceive  it ;  and  it  is  a  breach  which  divides  the 
Church  from  the  historical  Christ.  It  is  as  if  one  were  to 
trace  one's  descent  from  some  great  man,  and  to  estabhsh 
every  link  except  the  first : — our  ancestor  was  after  all 
wrongly  supposed  to  be  the  son  of  the  great  man  ;  or  the 
great  man  was  only  a  myth.  It  is  quite  impossible  to 
justify  this  position  by  disparaging  existential  truth. 
If  it  does  not  matter  whether  the  Incarnation  was  a 
fact  or  a  legend ;  if  Faith  can  create  dogmas  with  the 
same  freedom  which  Plato's  Socrates  claims  in  inventing 
his  myths  ;  if  things  exist  only  as  instrimients  for  the  will, 
and  all  events  are  plastic  under  the  hand  of  the  religious 
imagination ;  we  are  transported  into  a  world  where  there 
is  no  difference  between  fact  and  fiction,  and  where  it  is 
difficult  to  suppose  that  human  conduct  can  matter  much. 
Such  a  contempt  for  actuaUty  is  far  removed  from  the 
Christian  view  of  the  world.  It  will  of  course  be  said  that 
it  is  only  religious  symbols  which  are  thus  removed  from  the 


FAITH  BASED  ON  PRACTICAL  NEEDS  176 

existential  order  ;  and  that  it  is  Just  because  the  Modernist 
has  so  great  respect  for  historical  accuracy,  that  he 
carries  his  critical  apparatus  even  into  the  holy  places  of 
the  Christian  origins.  But  with  what  object  is  the  his- 
torical form  retained  for  Faith,  when  it  is  rejected  as  fact  ? 
For  whose  benefit  does  the  Modernist  priest  go  on  praying 
to  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  whom  he  believes  to  be  a  purely 
mythical  personage  ?  Not  for  his  own  surely.  It  would 
be  a  strange  attitude  of  mind  to  be  able  to  offer  petitions 
to  a  being  whom,  at  the  time  of  praying,  one  conceived 
of  as  non-existent.  Then  it  must  be  for  the  sake  of  the 
uninstructed  laity.  But,  putting  aside  the  moral  objection 
that  might  be  raised,  is  it  not  significant  that  those  who 
can  find  comfort  and  help  in  such  devotions  are  entirely 
convinced  of  the  historical  facts  which  the  Modernist  finds 
himself  unable  to  accept  ?  Would  any  simple  Catholic 
feel  that  the  foundations  of  his  Faith  were  not  assailed  by 
M.  Loisy's  Les  Evangiles  Synoptiques  ?  It  may  be  asserted 
with  confidence,  that '  dogmatic  symbols  '  are  only  helpful 
to  those  who  can  find  in  them  an  actual  bridge  between  the 
spiritual  and  material  worlds — just  that  kind  of  bridge 
which  the  Modernists,  as  critics,  reject  as  impossible.  *  The 
historian,'  says  M.  Loisy,  *  does  not  remove  God  from 
history ;  he  never  encounters  Him  there.*  Now  this 
assumption  (for  it  is  of  course  an  assumption  to  say  that 
God  never  manifests  Himself  in  history)  is  absolutely 
fatal  to  Catholicism  as  a  living  and  working  Faith.  What- 
ever changes  the  Roman  Church  may  make,  to  adjust 
itself  to  changing  circumstances,  it  is  safe  to  predict  that 
it  will  never  accept  a  God  who  *  never  intervenes  in  history.' 
The  whole  system  of  Catholicism — its  sacraments,  its 
disciphne,  its  festivals,  its  priesthood,  is  bound  up  with  the 
belief  that  God  does  intervene  in  history.  Those  who 
think  otherwise  seem  to  be  liable  to  the  reproach  which 
they  most  of  all  dislike — that  of  scholastic  intellectual- 
ism  and  neglect  of  concrete  experience. 


176  FAITH  [CH. 

The  authors  of  the  Programme  of  Modernism  seem  to 
be  right  in  saying  that  the  philosophy  of  the  movement 
grew  out  of  its  critical  studies.  There  are  many  intelli- 
gent priests  in  the  Roman  Church  who  have  become  keenly 
alive  to  the  immense  difl&culties  which  historical  criticism 
has  raised  in  the  way  of  traditional  beliefs.  They  can  no 
longer  believe  what  the  Church  requires  them  to  beheve. 
And  yet  they  are  conscious  of  no  rebellion  against  the 
spirit  of  Catholicism.  They  are  ardently  loyal  and  enthusi- 
astic Catholics.  Their  faith  is  unimpaired,  but  it  no 
longer  rests  on  the  old  base,  or  carries  with  it  conviction 
that  whatever  the  Church  teaches  is  true.  In  this  dire 
perplexity  (and  we  must  all  sympathise  with  them  in  an 
impasse  which  by  no  means  confronts  the  Roman  Church 
alone)  they  turn  eagerly  to  a  popular  and  confident  school 
of  philosophy  which  seems  to  interpret  the  situation  for 
them,  and  to  offer  them  a  way  of  honourable  escape  from 
it.  The  separation  of  truths  of  Faith  from  truths  of  fact ; 
the  primacy  of  will  and  feeling  over  discursive  thought ; 
the  right  to  believe  what  we  wish  to  beUeve  '  at  our  own 
risk  ' — what  is  this  but  the  very  solution  they  were  craving 
for  ?  And  now  they  find  this  position  maintained  by 
philosophers  of  repute,  who  have  no  personal  reason  for 
wishing  to  justify  it.  We  cannot  wonder  that  voluntarism 
and  pragmatism  have  made  many  eager  disciples  among 
the  liberal  clergy. 

And  yet  they  are  wrong.  This  philosophy,  which  seems 
to  promise  them  an  honourable  truce  between  the  old 
Faith  which  they  love  and  the  new  knowledge  which  they 
cannot  ignore,  would  in  reafity,  if  followed  up  seriously 
and  not  merely  grasped  at  in  controversial  straits,  lead  them 
far  outside  Christianity.  It  rests  on  a  very  deep-rooted 
scepticism — on  a  psychology  which  tries  to  be  a  self-suffic* 
ing  philosophy,  independent  of  objective  truth.  It  is 
Kantianism  without  the  moral  absolutism  which  gave  Kant 
a  TTou  (rrdi.     It  is  a  mere  experimental  opportunism  which 


X.]  FAITH  BASED  ON  PRACTICAL  NEEDS  V^ 

can  never  rise  to  a  high  spiritual  level,  because  it  acknow- 
ledges no  fixed  eternal  standard  to  which  our  actions  can  be 
referred.  Even  God,  if  the  idea  of  God  is  retained,  can  be 
only  an  ideal  projected  by  the  mind,  not  an  objective  fact. 
The  scepticism  is  of  a  pecuharly  intractable  nature,  because 
it  involves  the  instrument  of  thought.  We  are  hardly 
allowed  to  form  concepts,  because  all  is  in  a  state  of  flux, 
and  nothing  remains  the  same  while  we  are  thinking  about 
it. 

Such  a  philosophy  would  never  have  attracted  Christian 
priests  except  at  a  time  of  exceptional  difficulty  and  per- 
plexity. The  aid  which  it  briugs  is  illusory ;  it  enables 
a  priest  to  blow  hot  and  cold  with  the  same  mouth  and  feel 
no  qualms,  but  it  offers  no  solution  of  the  problem  ;  it 
leaves  the  tension  between  Faith  and  fact  as  great  as 
before.  The  Pope  was  quite  right  in  condemning  Modem- 
ism  ;  he  could  not  possibly  have  done  otherwise  ;  though 
we  may  regret  that  he  fails  to  realise  the  severity  of  the 
crisis,  and  suggests  no  way  out  of  it  except  the  impossible 
one  of  return  to  tradition  and  St.  Thomas  Aquinas.  The 
treatment  of  the  Modernists  is  ungenerous  ;  the  total  failure 
of  the  Vatican  to  understand  the  loyalty  and  distress  of 
these  unwilliQg  '  heretics '  is  not  a  good  omen  for  the 
future. 
^  The  consideration  of  these  current  controversies  has 
provided,  I  hope,  an  illustration  of  what  is  the  main  sub- 
ject of  these  two  lectures — the  results  of  the  attempt 
to  separate  Faith  entirely  from  scientific  or  theoretical 
knowledge.  The  conclusion  which  I  maintain  is  that  Faith 
is  not  independent  of  the  intellectual  processes,  and  that 
whatever  form  dualism  takes — whether,  with  Kant,  we 
separate  the  theoretical  from  the  practical  reason,  or, 
with  Ritschl,  judgments  of  fact  from  judgments  of  value, 
or,  with  Loisy,  the  Christ  of  Faith  from  the  Christ  of 
history — the  result  is  profoundly  unsatisfactory.  , 

M 


1/8  FAITH  [cH. 


CHAPTER    XI 

FAITH  AND   REASON 

We  have  now  to  consider  the  place  of  the  intellect  in 
religious  belief.  The  view  that  the  subject-matter  of 
religion  is  a  system  of  facts  and  laws,  which  can  be  studied 
and  known  like  any  other  subject  of  knowledge,  is  called 
rationalism.  The  word  is  often  used  by  religious  people 
as  a  synonym  for  scepticism  or  infidelity.  But  in  fact 
rationalism  has  quite  as  often  been  orthodox  as  heretical. 
The  scholastic  (especially  the  Thomist)  theology,  which  is 
still  officially  recognised  by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
as  the  philosophy  of  the  Christian  rehgion,  is  mainly  ^ 
rationalistic,  within  certain  prescribed  limits.  God  has 
revealed  certain  truths  to  mankind  ;  but  the  authority  of 
the  revelation,  though  not  its  contents,  has  been  guaranteed 
by  signs  offered  to  the  reason.  Moreover,  the  existence  of 
God  is  not  only  known  by  revelation,  but  can  also  be 
demonstrated  by  reason.  Nor  does  official  Rome  show  any 
disposition  to  recede  from  this  position.  When  Brunetiere, 
some  years  ago,  announced '  the  bankruptcy  of  the  sciences,' 
and,  in  the  interests  of  CathoUc  orthodoxy,  separated  Faith 
from  knowledge,  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  reprimanded  him, 
and  referred  him  to  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  who  says  that 
*  Faith  presupposes  natural  knowledge,  though  that  which 
in  and  for  itself  can  be  proved  and  known  may  be  an  object 
of  Faith  to  those  who  cannot  understand  the  proof.'     A 

1  The  Summa  Theologiae  contains  many  sound  statements  about  the  pro- 
Tince  of  the  will  in  determining  belief;  but  St.  Thomas  does  not,  like  so  many 
moderns,  set  the  will  against  the  intellect  in  order  to  disparage  th<  latter. 


XL]  FAITH  AXD  KEASON  179 

Papal  decree  of  1855  declares  that  '  rational  conclusions 
can  prove  with  certainty  the  existence  of  God,  the  spiritual 
nature  of  the  soul,  and  the  freedom  of  the  will.'  ^  The 
Vatican  Council  of  1870  decreed  :  '  Si  quis  dixerit  Deum 
unum  et  verum  naturali  rationis  lumine  certo  cognosci  non 
possBy  anathema  sit.^  The  Modernists  are  blarned  for 
abandoning  this  position.  Again,  the  evidential  school 
in  England,  long  held  in  special  honour  at  Cambridge  in 
the  person  of  Paley,  is  crudely  rationalistic.  Paley,  who 
expresses  his  surprise  that  in  Apostolic  times  more  stress 
was  not  laid  on  the  arguments  from  miracle  and  prophecy, 
which  seemed  to  him  so  convincing,  is  equally  confident 
of  the  irresistible  cogency  of  the  argument  from  desi^)^, 
which  he  thus  enunciates.  '  The  marks  of  design  are  too 
strong  to  be  gotten  over.  Design  must  have  a  designer,  ^ 
That  designer  must  be  a  Person.     That  Person  is  God.' 

Speculative  idealism,  as  a  philosophy  of  religion,  gives  us 
examples  of  intellectualism — one  can  hardly  say  of  rational- 
ism— of  a  very  different  kind.  Speculative  ideahsm  substi- 
tutes truth  of  idea  for  truth  of  fact ;  or  rather,  it  regards 
ideas  as  the  real  facts.  I  have  already  quoted  Fichte's^ \^ 
dictum  that  we  are  saved  by  metaphysics  and  not  by/ 
history.  Hegel's  absolute  idealism,  or  Panlogism,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  the  most  imposing  philosophical  edifice 
ever  reared,  belongs  to  this  type.  But  Kant  was  also  a 
rationahst  on  one  side — the  side  on  which  his  modem 
admirers  do  not  follow  him.  Among  Christian  apologists 
Newman  is  sometimes  thoroughly  rationalistic  in  language, 
as  when  he  says  :  '  What  I  mean  by  theology  is  simply 
the  science  of  God,  or  the  truths  we  know  about  God,  put 
into  a  system,  just  as  we  have  a  science  of  the  stars  and 
call  it  astronomy,  or  of  the  crust  of  the  earth  and  call  it 
geology.'  2  This,  however,  is  not  Newman's  real  position. 
He  belongs,  like  Pascal,  to  the  type  of  sceptical  orthodoxy. 

1  HofFding,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  p.  387. 

•  Cf.  James,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  435. 


180  FAITH  [CH. 

Orthodox  rationalism  is  associated,  above  all,  with  the 
famous  *  proofs '  of  God's  existence,  which  were  very 
roughly  handled  by  Kant,  and  are  at  present  much  out  of 
favour.  I  wish  to  indicate,  as  well  as  I  can  in  a  very  brief 
discussion,  what  value  can,  in  my  opinion,  still  be  attached 
to  them. 

The  ontological  argument  in  its  scholastic  form  concludes 
from  the  notion  of  God  as  the  most  perfect  being,  the  fact 
of  His  existence ;  because  existence  is  certainly  involved 
in  the  idea  of  perfection.  Descartes  states  it  in  a  form 
which  is  scarcely  defensible.  '  God's  existence  can  no  more 
be  separated  from  His  essence,  than  the  idea  of  a  mountain 
from  '  hat  of  a  valley.'  '  It  is  true,'  he  goes  on,  '  that  I 
may  imagine  a  winged  horse,  though  no  winged  horses 
exist ;  but  the  cases  are  not  ana^ogous,  for  I  can  think  of 
a  non-existent  Pegasus,  but  I  cannot  conceive  of  God 
except  as  existing,  which  shows  that  existence  is  inseparable 
from  Him.'  In  other  words,  the  ontological  assertion 
cannot  be  claimed  for  all  ideas,  but  only  for  necessary 
ones,  such  as  the  ideas  of  perfection  and  infinity,  that  is  to 
say,  of  God.  Cudworth,  the  Cambridge  Platonist,  states 
the  argument  more  attractively.  '  Our  human  soul  cannot 
feign  or  create  any  new  cogitation  or  conception  that  was 
not  before,  but  only  variously  compound  that  which  is ; 
nor  can  it  ever  make  a  positive  idea  of  an  absolute  non- 
entity— that  is,  such  as  hath  neither  actual  nor  possible 
existence  ;  much  less  could  our  imperfect  being  create  the 
entity  of  so  vast  a  thought  as  that  of  an  infinitely  perfect 
being  out  of  nothing  ;  because  there  is  no  repugnancy  at 
all  in  the  latter,  as  there  is  in  the  former.  We  affirm 
therefore  that,  was  there  no  God,  the  idea  of  an  absolutely 
perfect  being  could  never  have  been  made  or  feigned.'  ^ 

Kant  convicts  the  ontological  argument  of  two  errors. 
First,  the  purely  logical  possibility  of  the  notion  of  an 
ens  realissimum  is  transformed  into  a  real  possibility,  and 
1  Cudworth,  Intellectual  Systenif  vol.  i  chap.  v. 


XI.1  FAITH  AND  REASON  181 


secondly  actual  existence  is  deduced  from  the  notion  as 
one  of  the  attributes  implied  in  it ;  which  is,  he  says,  much 
the  same  as  to  deduce  from  the  idea  of  a  hundred  dollars 
the  existence  of  that  sum  in  my  pocket. 

This  obvious  criticism,  which  had  been  made  long  before 
Kant,  is  only  fatal  to  the  crudest  form  of  the  ontological 
proof.  Hegel  rehabilitated  the  argument  in  his  own 
fashion.  '  The  content  is  right,'  he  said  ;  *  it  is  only  the 
form  which  is  defective.'  In  his  philosophy  the  idea  itself 
is  the  absolute,  and  '  it  would  be  strange  to  deny  to  it 
even  the  poorest  category,  that  of  being.'  This,  however, 
is  not  what  religion  wants  to  prove  about  God.  But 
Hegel  also  argues  that  thought,  which  is  a  spiritual  act, 
must  have  its  ground  in  a  spiritual  principle  which  is  also 
the  ground  of  nature.  The  agreement  of  the  ideal  laws 
of  thought  with  the  real  laws  of  being,  is  a  fact  of  ex- 
perience.    There  must  then  be  a  common  ground  of  both. 

Lotze  gave  the  argument  a  new  and  characteristic 
turn,  replacing  logical  proof  by  immediate  certainty  of 
*  living  feeling.'  It  would  be  *  intolerable '  to  believe 
that  perfection  exists  only  in  our  thought,  and  has  no 
power  or  being  in  the  world  of  reality.  This  removes  the 
argument  from  its  intellectualist  basis.  God  exists, 
because  Faith  pronounces  it  *  intolerable  '  that  He  should 
not.  It  is  intolerable,  not  unthinkable.  It  is  possible  to 
conceive  of  such  a  condition,  but  only  by  assuming  that 
the  world  is  bad  and  meaningless.  And  we  reject  such  an 
idea  by  an  act  of  reasonable  Faith. 

Professor  Ladd  ^  restates  the  argument  in  a  shape  some- 
what nearer  to  its  earlier  form.  All  beliefs  and  cognitions, 
he  says,  depend  upon  an  ontological  proof  or  postulate. 
Every  argument  for  every  kind  of  reality  presupposes  that 
we  are  in  contact  with  ontological  truth.  '  What  is  so  con- 
nected with  our  experience  of  reality  that  it  is  essential 
to  explain  that  experience  is  believed  to  be  real.' 

1  Philosophy  of  Religion,  vol.  i.  p.  309. 


182  FAITH  [CH. 

The  real  force  of  the  ontological  argument  lies  n  the 
reasonable  and  stubbornly  confident  claim  of  the  human 
spirit  to  be  in  some  sort  of  contact  with  the  highest  reality. 
The  very  conception  of  objective  truth  is  most  reasonably 
accounted  for  by  supposing  it  to  be  a  *  revelation  '  from 
Him  who  is  the  truth.  Whence  comes  our  idea  of  God, 
if  not  from  God  Himself  ?  Who  else  could  have  put  it 
there  ?  Since  then  we  certainly  have  an  idea  of  God,  and 
since  only  God  can  have  put  it  into  our  minds,  we  may 
infer  that  God  exists.  This  argument  was  unfortunately 
split  into  two  halves  in  the  scholastic  period,  and  took  the 
following  unsatisfactory  form  :  (1)  The  idea  of  God  implies 
His  existence ;  (2)  Our  consciousness  of  God  can  only  be 
explained  by  an  external  divine  revelation.  Both  these 
are  false,  the  former  for  the  reasons  already  stated,  and 
the  latter  because  the  existence  of  an  Absolute  Spirit 
could  not  be  revealed  in  such  a  manner.  But  when  we 
say  that  God  only  can  have  implanted  in  our  minds  the 
thought  of  God,  we  are,  it  seems  to  me,  using  a  good  argu- 
ment. We  cannot  get  behind  the  conviction  that  '  all 
existence  rests  upon  a  Being  the  fountain  of  whose  life  is 
within  Himself ;  we  must  ally  the  fugitive  phenomena, 
which  colour  the  stream  of  life  with  ever-changing  lives, 
to  an  eternal  and  unchanging  existence.'^  It  is  impossible, 
if  we  think  honestly,  to  regard  the  conception  of  God  as  a 
purely  subjective  development.  *  This  conception,  as 
human  reason  has  somehow  succeeded  in  framing  it,  seems 
to  the  same  reason  to  demand  the  reality  of  God. '  ^ 

The  cosmologiccU  argument,  in  its  earliest  form,  as  we 
find  it  in  Aristotle,  concludes  from  the  motion  in  the  world 
to  a  first  mover.  Man  is  dissatisfied  with  the  fragmentary 
pictures  which  his  experience  of  the  world  presents  to  him  ; 
he  wants  to  find  the  ultimate  causative  principle.  So  he 
arrives  at  the  idea  of  a  divine  first  cause.    Against  this 

1  Fiohte. 

*  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  rol.  ii.  p.  60. 


XL]  FAITH  AND  REASON  !» 

time-honoured  argument  Kant  objected  that  it  is  useless 
to  search  for  cause  beyond  cause  in  the  hope  of  finding  the 
beginning  of  the  chain  ;  the  law  of  causality  is  only  valid 
for  the  world  of  phenomena,  and  cannot  lead  us  to  a  first 
cause  beyond  the  world.  Also,  we  have  no  reason  to  seek 
for  any  cause  of  the  world  outside  itself. 

We  admit  readily  that  the  cosmological  argument  is  no 
longer  acceptable  in  its  earlier  deistic  form,  which  separates 
God  from  the  world,  and  confines  His  action  upon  it  to  the 
original  act  of  creation.  What  the  reUgious  sense  of  our 
day  demands  is  not  a  Prime  Mover  but  an  immanent  World-, 
ground.  And  the  demand  for  an  immanent  guiding  prin- 
ciple, acting  in  accordance  with  fixed  laws  and  with  a 
rational  purpose,  is  itself  the  cosmological  argument. 
What  gave  us  the  idea  of  such  a  world  ?  What  impels  us 
to  find  everywhere  evidence  of  law  and  reason,  to  be 
content  when  we  have  found  them  and  dissatisfied  until 
we  have  done  so,  unless  such  is  indeed  the  constitution  of 
the  real  world  ?  This  is  in  substance  the  turn  which 
Lotze  gives  to  this  argument.  The  proof  is  not  directed  to 
anything  which  belongs  to  the  past,  but  is  made  to  yield 
an  ever  present  energy  as  the  source  and  ground  of  all 
cosmical  change  and  happening.^ 

The  Ideological  argument,  or  argument  from  design,  is 
treated  by  Kant  with  much  greater  respect  than  the  two 
preceding  *  proofs.'  He  calls  it  the  oldest,  the  clearest, 
and  the  most  rational  of  the  proofs.  Nevertheless  it  shares 
the  fate  of  the  others — that  of  being  implicitly  non-suited 
before  the  trial  begins.^  It  has  a  regulative,  not  a  constitu- 
tive value.  It  is  a  mere  introduction  to  the  ontological 
proof,  which  he  considers  himself  to  have  already  disposed 
of. 

The  argument,  as  stated  fairly  enough  by  Kant,  is  as 

1  Caldecott  and  Mackintosh,  SeUctioru  from  the  Literatwre  \)f  Theism^ 
p.  206. 
«  Ihid.,  p.  211. 


184  FAITH  [CB. 

lollows.  We  observe  in  the  world  manifest  signs  of  pur- 
pose, executed  with  great  wisdom,  and  existiag  over  the 
whole  of  its  vast  extent.  This  arrangement  of  means  and 
ends  is  entirely  foreign  to  the  things  existing  in  the  world. 
The  nature  of  things  could  not  of  itself  tend  towards 
certain  purposes ;  they  must  have  been  chosen  and 
directed  by  some  rational  principle,  in  accordance  with 
certain  fundamental  ideas.  There  exists,  therefore,  a 
sublime  and  wise  cause,  which  is  free  and  intelligent.  Its 
unity  may  be  inferred  from  the  harmony  existiug  between 
the  parts  of  the  world. 

It  is  quite  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  Darwinism,  or 
modem  science  generally,  has  destroyed  the  teleological 
argument.  The  naive  teleology  of  Paley  is  no  doubt  to  a 
large  extent  discredited.  It  is  an  inner  teleology — a  vast 
network  of  final  purposes  continually  working  themselves 
out  in  the  inextricably  complex  processes  of  natural  life — 
to  which  we  are  now  directed.  The  very  conception  of 
order  and  law,  so  far  from  contradicting  the  idea  of  pur- 
pose, impUes  it.  The  appearance  of  mechanism  is  just  what 
we  ought  to  expect  from  a  tremendous  power  operating 
constantly  and  uniformly.  What  is  really  significant  is 
that  in  spite  of  this  appearance  of  mechanism,  in  spite  of 
the  enormous  waste  and  apparent  recklessness  of  Nature's 
method,  man  cannot  renounce  the  idea,  nay,  the  conviction, 
that  an  unceasing  purpose  runs  through  it  all.  It  is  per- 
fectly true,  as  Kant  says,  that  this  drives  us  back  upon  the 
ontological  argument  again.  We  have  to  face  the  objection 
that  this  conviction  may  have  a  purely  subjective  origin. 
But  we  have  already  conceded  the  righteous  and  reasonable 
demand  of  Faith  that  when  our  whole  personality — will, 
thought,  and  feeling — tells  us  that  we  are  in  the  presence 
of  objective  truth  and  reality,  we  shall  believe  it. 

*  There  are  many  proofs  of  God's  existence,  but  no 
demonstrations.'  ^    Final   postulates   of   thought  are   in- 

1  Gwatkin,  The  Knowledge  of  Godf  vol.  L  p.  9. 


FAITH  AND  KEASON  185 

capable  of  demonstration.  They  are  hypotheses,  which 
may  be  said  to  be  '  proved  '  if  they  explain  the  facts.  Some 
hypotheses,  however,  are  so  inwrought  with  the  very 
texture  of  rational  experience,  that  to  deny  them  is  to 
destroy  experience.  Many  have  thought  that  we  may 
rest  our  certainty  of  God's  existence  on  this  ground,  and  in 
a  sense  I  agree  :  but  this  argument  at  best  only  leads 
half-way  to  the  God  of  religious  Faith. 

The  history  of  the  Aufkldrung,  and  kindred  movements 
in  other  countries,  is  very  instructive  for  a  due  apprecia- 
tion of  the  results  of  pure  intellectualism.  If  it  takes  the 
form  of  rationaUsm,  it  tends  to  slide  into  naturalistic 
pantheism.  If  it  takes  the  form  of  speculative  ideal- 
ism, it  tends  to  slide  into  idealistic  pantheism.  In 
either  case,  its  final  state  is  to  become  a  cosmological 
theory,  and  to  fall  outside  of  religion  properly  so  called. 
A  good  example  in  England  is  John  Toland,  who  in  1696 
published  his  once  famous  book,  Christianity  not  Mysteri- 
ous, in  which  he  argues  that  all  the  doctrines  of  Christi- 
anity are  in  complete  agreement  with  '  the  religion  of 
reason,'  that  is,  of  educated  common  sense.  *  All  Faith 
now  in  the  world,'  he  writes,  *  is  entirely  built  on  ratiocina- 
tion.' He  does  not  reject  revelation,  but  holds  that 
revealed  doctrine,  though  we  might  not  have  discovered 
it  for  ourselves,  is  now  capable  of  being  proved  and  veri- 
fied by  common  sense.  Orthodox  AngUcan  rationalists, 
like  Tillotson  and  Paley,  use  much  the  same  language,  but 
lay  stress  on  miracles  as  signs  offered  to  the  understanding 
in  confirmation  of  the  revelation.  Tillotson,  for  instance, 
says  :  '  Nothing  ought  to  be  received  as  a  divine  doctrine 
and  revelation,  without  good  evidence  that  it  is  so  :  that 
is,  without  some  argument  sufficient  to  satisfy  a  prudent 
and  considerate  man.'  ^  Again  :  *  Faith  is  an  assent  of  the 
mind  to  something  revealed  by  God  :  now  all  assent  must 
be  grounded  upon  evidence ;   that  is,  no  man  can  believe 

1  Tillotson,  Sermons,  vol.  ii.  p.  260, 


186  FAITH  [cH. 

f  anything,  unless  he  have,  or  think  he  hath,  some  reason 
I  to  do  so.     For  to  be  confident  of  a  thing  without  reason 
is  not  Faith,  but  a  presumptuous  persuasion  and  obstinacy 
\  of  mind.'  ^ 

It  is  worth  while  to  contrast  these  utterances  with  St. 
Paul's  conception  of  evangelistic  teaching.  *  My  speech 
and  my  preaching  were  not  in  persuasive  words  of  wisdom, 
but  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  of  power  ;  that  your 
Faith  should  not  stand  in  the  wisdom  of  men,  but  in  the 
power  of  God.  Howbeit  we  speak  wisdom  among  the  per- 
fect ;  yet  a  wisdom  not  of  this  world,  nor  of  the  rulers  of 
this  world  which  are  coming  to  nought :  but  we  speak 
God's  wisdom  in  a  mystery,  even  the  wisdom  that  hath 
been  hidden,  which  God  foreordained  before  the  world 
unto  our  glory.'  ^  And  again  :  '  By  manifestation  of 
the  truth  commending  ourselves  to  every  man's  con- 
science in  the  sight  of  God.'  ^  Few  great  religious 
teachers  have  attached  so  much  importance  to  mental 
enlightenment  as  St.  Paul.  But  he  carefully  distinguishes 
the  kind  of  '  knowledge  '  which  makes  a  man  '  spiritual ' 
and  capable  of  discerning  spiritual  truth,  from  the  prudence 
and  worldly  wisdom  to  which  appeal  was  so  frequently 
made  in  the  eighteenth  century.  The  appeal  of  the  Gospel 
is  not  to  the  logical  faculty  purged  from  *  enthusiasm.' 
That  is  a  temper  of  mind  which  precludes  acceptance  of 
the  evidence  which  Faith  brings  with  it,  namely,  what  the 
Apostle  calls  *  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  power.'  It 
is  the  pecuharity  of  revelation  that  it  brings  the  mind  into 
contact  with  higher  orders  of  reality  and  truth  than  are 
accessible  to  worldly  prudence  and  respectability ;  and 
these  new  experiences  carry  with  them  their  own  verifica- 
tion in  a  new  sense  of  power  and  spiritual  vitality.  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  these  eighteenth-century  divines 
had  quite  lost  the  true  meaning  of  Faith.     They  regarded 

1  Tillotson,  Sermons,  voL  iv.  p.  42. 

«  1  Cor.  ii.  4-7.  »  2  Cor.  It.  2, 


n.]  FAITH  AND  REASON  187 

it  as  ordinary  knowledge  or  opinion  concerned  with  divine 
matters.  But  religious  truth  is  not  to  be  won  in  this 
manner.  Orthodox  rationalism  became  more  and  more 
dry  and  hfeless  ;  while  some  of  its  defenders,  like  Toland 
himself,  drifted  into  pantheistic  naturalism,  in  which  the 
religious  valuation  of  the  world  quite  disappeared. 

It  is  worth  noticing  how  this  type  of  rationalism  some- 
times shows  its  aflfinity  with  a  cold,  hard  moralism,  and 
with  utiUtarianism  in  philosophy.  When  all  the  poetical 
and  imaginative  side  of  reKgion  is  rigorously  banished,  the 
religious  sense,  which  is  still  not  extinguished,  may  attach 
itself  firmly  to  conduct,  and  may  give  its  sanction  to  a  cool- 
headed  ambition  to  improve  the  outward  conditions  of 
humanity.  In  this  way  many  excellent  men  in  the  last 
century  found  a  worthy  aim  and  an  adequate  task.  We 
must  always  think  respectfully  of  the  utilitarian  movement 
which  grew  out  of  eighteenth  century  rationalism. 

If  utilitarian  rationaUsm  may  be  claimed  as  a  character- 
istically English  type,  speculative  idealism  has  been  the 
typical  German  product  of  intellectualism.  With  Leibnitz, 
and  the  Aufklarung  generally,  Faith  in  a  divine  reason, 
encompassing  the  world,  and  the  ground  of  human  reason, 
had  been  the  basis  of  belief  that  universally  valid  truth  is 
accessible  to  man.^  Spinoza  made  this  cosmic  reason 
immanent,  so  that  it  is  not  so  much  we  who  think,  as  God 
who  thinks  in  us  ;  and  in  order  to  think  divinely,  we  need 
only  purify  our  souls  from  all  personal  interests  and  selfish 
aims.  But  he  never  taught,  like  Kant,  that  our  thought 
is  unrelated  to  objects  existing  outside  itself.  His  error 
was  in  placing  this  cosmic  nature,  which  thinks  in  us,  too 
exclusively  in  intellectual  activity.  This  limitation  arose 
from  his  great  desire  to  win  detachment  from  mundane 
concerns,  which  seemed  to  him  obstacles  in  the  way  of 
cosmic  consciousness.  The  loss  involved  in  one-sided  in- 
tellectualism was  disguised  from  himself  by  the  mystical 

1  Eucken,  T?u  Life  of  the  Spirit  (translated  by  Pogson),  p.  309. 


188  FAITH  [oh. 

and  genuinely  devout  side  of  his  own  character,  which 
supplied  motives  and  experiences  quite  alien  to  the  purely 
speculative  nature  of  his  philosophy.^ 

With  Fichte  and  Hegel  the  thought,  which  Kant  had 
severed  from  the  world,  became  the  workshop  in  which  the 
whole  of  reality  is  created.  Thought  produces  contra- 
dictions out  of  itself  and  overcomes  them,  until  the  whole 
of  existence  has  been  embraced,  transmuted,  and  assimil- 
ated into  one  all-embracing,  absolute  harmony.  For  a 
short  time  it  was  thought  that  this  ambitious  philosophy 
had  solved  the  ultimate  problem.  Then  followed  a  reaction 
which  has  threatened  to  sweep  away  the  substantial 
gains  which  these  great  thinkers  really  secured  for  human 
thought.  Their  disciples  in  this  country  now  adopt  a 
much  more  modest  tone,  as  becomes  those  who  are  standing 
on  the  defensive.  A  good  example  of  this  school  is  Princi- 
pal Caird,  who,  in  his  Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of 
Religion,  thus  vindicates  for  intellect  the  place  of  honour 
in  reUgious  Faith  : — 

*  It  is  no  vaUd  objection  to  the  endeavour  after  a  rational 
knowledge  of  the  contents  of  our  religious  beUef,  to  say 
that  the  primary  organ  of  spiritual  knowledge  is  not  reason 
but  Faith.     That  we  must  begin  with  intuition  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  not  go  on  to  scientific  knowledge.    The 
spontaneous  and  the  reflective  tendencies  may  co-exist. 
Granting  that  the  act  of  spiritual  apprehension  is  quite 
different  from  intellectual  assent,  there  is  still  a  place  left 
for  reason  in  the  province  of  religion.    The  science  of 
acoustics  is  not  meaningless  because  we  can  hear  without 
it.     We  act  before  we  reflect ;    and  rehgion  must  exist  ^ 
before  it  can  be  made  the  subject  of  reflective  thought.    \ 
But  in  religion  as  in  morality,  art,  and  other  spheres  of 
human  activity,  there  is  the  underlying  element  of  reason 
which  is  the  characteristic  of  all  the  activities  of  a  self-    j 
conscious  intelhgence.    To  endeavour  to  elicit  and  give    ' 
1  Eucken,  The  lA/eqfthe  Spirit  (translated  by  Pogson),  p.  812. 


XI.]  FAITH  AND  REASON  189 

objective  clearness  to  that  element — to  infuse  into  the 
spontaneous  and  unsifted  conceptions  of  religious  experi- 
ence the  objective  clearness,  necessity,  and  organic  unity 
of  thought — is  the  legitimate  aim  of  science,  in  religion  as 
in  other  spheres.  It  would  be  strange  if  in  the  highest  of 
all  provinces  of  human  experience,  intelligence  must 
renounce  her  claim. 

i    '  What  then  is  the  ofi&ce  of  intelligence  in  religion  ?  ^ 
To  purify  our  intuitions,  which  often  deceive  us.     Truth\^ 
is  indeed  its  own  witness,  but  not  all  that  seems  to  be  true. 
We  need  intellect  in  order  to  distinguish  that  which  has 
a  right  to  dominate  the  mind  from  that  which  derives  its 
influence  only  from  accident  and  association. J 

*  Moreover,  it  is  the  highest  task  of  philosophy  to  justify 
those  paradoxes  and  seeming  contradictions  in  which  the 
religious  consciousness  finds  its  natural  expression.  It 
seeks  to  lead  us  to  a  higher  point  of  view,  from  which  these 
seeming  contradictions  vanish.' 

These  extracts  are  not  sufficient  to  make  Caird's  stand- 
point clear.     His  Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Religion 
should  be  read  carefully.     He  holds  that  Thought  or  self- 
conscious  Mind  is  the  only  category  under  which  the 
Infinite  can  be  conceived  by  us.     '  All  other  categories 
are  still   categories  of  the  finite.'     He  agrees  with  the 
Intuitivists    that   religion   enables   us   to   rise   from   the 
finite  to  the  infinite,  and  to  find  the  ideal  become  real.^     But 
he  considers  that  feeling,  taken  at  its  face  value,  gives  us 
no  sure  foundation.     We  still  have  to  inquire.  Is  it  true  ?  -' 
And  to  this  question  thought  alone  can  give  an  answer. 
Intuitive  knowledge  which  professes  to  answer  this  question    / 
is  not  really  intuitive  or  immediate,  but  inferential,  and  I 
it  is  safer  to  recognise  it  for  what  it  is. 

Edward  Caird's  philosophy,  though  further  from  ortho- 
dox Christianity,  at  any  rate  in  tone,  is  very  similar  to  his 
brother's.    He  is  equally  confident  that  the  right  use  of 

*  Caldecott,  Fhilosqphy  of  Religion,  p.  149. 


190  FAITH  [cH. 

reason  must  lead  us  to  religion.  He  rejects  the  Ritschlian 
value-judgment  theory,  as  luring  us  into  the  acceptance  of 
the  theoretically  false  in  the  guise  of  the  practically  true.^ 
The  mystics,  he  thinks,  are  only  wrong  in  being  in  too  great 
a  hurry.  The  patient  processes  of  thought  would  give 
them  all  that  they  are  eager  to  snatch. 

A  particularly  good  and  illuminating  discussion  of  the 
present  attitude  of  reflective  thought  towards  religion,  or 
rather,  I  should  say,  of  religion  and  psychology  towards 
reflective  thought,  may  be  found  in  the  Hibhert  Journal 
for  1903,  in  two  articles  by  Professor  Henry  Jones,  of 
Glasgow.  He  observes  that  our  possession  of  the  rich 
inheritance  which  the  nineteenth  century  has  transmitted 
to  us — its  store  of  scientific  knowledge  and  spiritual 
interests — is  threatened  by  the  scepticism  which  doubts, 
or  even  denies,  that  intellectual  inquiry  can  have  any  real 
value  in  precisely  those  matters  which  are  best  worth 
knowing.  No  generation  has  ever  employed  intelligence 
more,  or  trusted  it  less,  than  our  own.  And  yet,  as  he  goes 
on  to  say,  this  is  not  really  a  sceptical  age.  Outside  the 
province  of  epistemology,  which  investigates  the  sources 
and  limits  of  knowledge,  there  is  no  disposition  on  the  part 
of  scientific  men  to  defer  to  '  authority,'  as  Mr.  Balfour 
would  have  us  do,  nor  to  appeal  to  immediate  assurance, 
or  direct  intuition,  or  the  feelings  of  the  heart,  instead  of  to 
free  inquiry,  guided  only  by  observation  and  reason.  In 
all  branches  of  science  alike,  we  find  the  same  conviction 
of  the  uniformity  of  nature  and  the  universaUty  of  law. 
Nor  does  this  faith  in  the  methods  of  science  lead  to  scep- 
ticism in  morals  and  religion.  This  is  an  age  which  believes  in 
God,  and  in  the  distinction  of  right  and  wrong,  as  grounded 
in  the  nature  of  things.  Our  great  poets,  who  are  the  best 
representatives  of  the  deeper  thought  of  our  time,  are  pro- 
foundly convinced  that  the  spiritual  life  of  man  is  based  on 
solid  foundations.    And  yet,  among  professed  philosophers, 

1  Caldecott,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  p.  152. 


FAITH  AND  REASON  191 

the  tide  of  anti-intellectualism  runs  very  strong.  The 
tendency  to  give  the  will  supremacy  over  the  speculative 
intellect,  and  to  interpret  the  world  in  terms  of  human  pur- 
pose, induces  philosophers  to  use  language  which  if  accepted 
in  the  world  of  science  would  make  all  science  impossible. 
They  assert  real  discontinuities,  uncaused  beginnings,  and 
non-logical  occurrences  in  the  objective  world.  Such  views 
are  calmly  ignored  by  the  scientists  ;  but  they  are  introduc- 
ing great  confusion  and  perplexity  into  religious  and  philo- 
sophical thought.  Professor  Jones  maintains  that  since 
both  reason  and  religion  claim  dominion  over  the  whole  realm 
of  man's  nature,  to  attempt  to  temporise  between  them 
is  to  be  disloyal  to  both.  There  can  be  no  delimitation 
of  frontiers  where  both  claimants  think  they  have  a  right 
to  the  whole  territory  in  dispute.  And,  as  he  adds,  surely 
with  truth,  *  No  age  of  the  world  was  ever  strong  except 
when  Faith  and  reason  went  hand  in  hand,  and  when  man's 
practical  ideals  were  also  his  surest  truths.'  The  contra- 
diction, if  there  is  one,  between  the  heart  and  intellect 
has  somehow  to  be  worked  out.  The  religious  and  the 
intellectual  spirit  of  the  age  are  both  sincere,  and  therefore 
somewhat  intolerant.  *  There  are  some  things  on  which 
the  world  does  not  go  back,  and  the  right  to  seek  the  truth 
is  among  the  number.  The  intellectual  ardour  of  the  world 
cannot  be  damped,  far  less  extinguished,  by  any  theory, 
blindly  advanced  in  the  service  of  religion,  of  the  radical 
insecurity  of  knowledge,  or  of  the  incompetence  and  un- 
trustworthiness  of  human  reason.' 

Professor  Jones  than  proceeds  to  deJSne  the  issue  by  an 
observation  which  penetrates  to  the  heart  of  the  problem. 
The  standpoint  of  modem  scientific  thought  is  cosmo- 
centric  ;  that  of  the  new  psychology  is  frankly  anthropo- 
centric.  *  Instead  of  explaining  nature  from  the  being 
of  man,'  says  a  scientific  writer,  'we  follow  the  reverse 
process,  and  seek  to  understand  human  life  from  the  general 
laws  of  nature.'     On  the  other  hand  the  pragmatists  have 


192  FAITH  [CH, 

revived  the  ancient  maxim  that  '  man  is  the  measure  of  all 
things.' 

Now  I  must  own  that  my  own  sympathies  are  with  those 
who  hold  the  cosmocentric  view.  '  The  conception  of 
reality,'  says  Professor  Jones,  '  as  a  single  system,  in  which 
man  occupies  his  own  irrevocable  place,  has  come  to  stay. 
To  give  it  up  would  be  to  give  up  philosophy  as  well  as 
science,  and  reasoning  as  well  as  philosophy.'  If  the 
world  is  '  wild,'  as  Professor  James  thinks,  we  ought  to 
give  up  thinking  ;  for  connected  thought  about  a  dis- 
connected world  must  be  false.  But  modem  thought  can 
never  commit  suicide  in  this  fashion.  That  nature  and 
man  are  in  some  way  continuous,  that  man  is  what  he  is 
only  in  virtue  of  his  ontological  relation  to  the  world,  apart 
from  which  he  can  have  neither  being  nor  meaning,  is  no 
longer  questionable.  And  yet,  so  great  is  the  fear  en- 
gendered by  the  conception  of  a  cosmos  which  shuts  man 
up  in  an  iron  framework,  that  we  find  Lotze  reducing 
natural  laws  to  mere  conceptual  generalisations,  not 
representing  facts  in  the  outer  world  ;  we  find  Ritschlians 
warning  the  intelligence  from  the  domain  of  religion,  thus 
opening  the  door  wide  for  any  superstition ;  we  find 
Professor  James  and  his  followers  constructing  the  universe 
of  enigmatical  atoms  dignified  by  the  name  of  persons, 
and  rushing  into  polytheism. 

I  have  already  explained  what  is  the  real  motive  of  the 
attacks  upon  the  intellectual  side  of  our  nature  which  are 
now  so  frequently  heard.  A  positive  dislike  is  felt  to- 
wards the  attempt  to  estabhsh  a  systematic  coherence  in 
the  world  of  experience.  It  is  hoped  that  the  attempt  may 
fail.  We  are  told  that  there  is  no  such  universal  system, 
but  only  finite  particular  facts  and  events.  jMan,  we  are 
reminded,  is  wider  than  mere  intellect.  His  moral  and 
religious  life  falls  outside  the  schematism  of  the  intelligence. 
It  deals  with  facts  '  of  another  order.* 

This  last  argument  I  believe  to  be  false  and  dangerous. 


XI.]  FAITH  AND  REASON  193 

We  cannot  set  up  an  order  of  facts  which  shall  be  outside 
the  whole  intellectual  realm.  The  sphere  of  the  intelli- 
gence is  not  limited  in  the  sense  that  there  are  provinces 
of  reality  which  it  cannot  touch.  No  doubt  there  are  many 
things  which  we  do  not  know.  The  world  as  we  know  it  is  not 
a  complete  system,  and,  since  all  reality  is  interdependent, 
no  object  within  it  is  completely  known.  But  this  admission 
does  not  oblige  us  to  parcel  out  the  kingdom  of  truth  into 
several  '  orders,'  each  under  the  charge  of  one  of  our 
faculties.  We  have  already  seen  what  havoc  results  from 
maintaining  these  rifts  within  our  mental  life.  1 

The  function  of  thought  is  not  to  invent  generalisations 
and  fabricate  connecting  links.  The  underlying  unity  is 
there  already.  It  is  utterly  impossible  to  regard  th6 
particular  facts  as  objectively  real,  and  the  laws  and 
principles  which  connect  and  regulate  them  as  having  only 
a  subjective  significance.  '  Mere  ideas '  cannot  bind  to- 
gether *  real  objects.'  Or  if  the  particulars  also  are  re- 
garded as  merely  subjective,  everything  disappears  at 
once  into  dreamland.  Nothing  can  be  proved  false  if 
nothing  is  taken  as  true.  The  sceptic  cannot  throw  his 
opponent  if  his  own  feet  are  in  the  air. 

It  seems  therefore  that  a  denial  of  the  Absolute  means  a 
denial  of  the  relative  as  well,  and  that  unless  we  believe 
that  reality  is  a  coherent  system,  we  can  say  nothing 
about  the  particular  existences,  which  ex  hypothesi  are 
intrinsically  unintelligible. 

The  pursuit  of  the  Absolute  is  no  invention  of  the  arro- 
gant '  intellectualist.'  It  is  a  fact  that  man  always  has  pur- 
sued the  truth,  the  good,  and  trusted  in  a  God,  who  gathers 
into  Himself  all  the  perfections  that  man  is  able  to  conceive. 
Religion  is  always  a  theory  of  reality.  It  cannot  be  sep- 
arated from  the  ontological  consciousness.  Man  does  pur- 
sue absolute  ideals,  however  well  he  may  know  that  they 
are  never  fully  attained  in  his  life  and  action ;  and  in 
this  pursuit  his  life  and  his  activity  consist.    He  cannot 

N 


194  FAITH  I^CH. 

escape  from  this  law  of  his  being  by  denying  that  there  is 
an  Absolute.  The  opponent  of  absolutism  generally  sets 
up  an  absolute  of  his  own  without  knowing  it :  Kant 
deifies  the  moral  sense,  Schopenhauer  the  irrational  will, 
Hartmann  the  unconscious,  Spencer  the  unknowable. 
Even  the  principle  of  relativity  becomes,  with  some  of 
its  advocates,  a  kind  of  absolute. 

I  must  not  anticipate  the  subject  of  my  last  lecture, 
which  will  be  devoted  to  showing  how  our  conflicting 
ideals  may,  as  I  think,  be  reconciled.  But  I  wish  to  con- 
sider rather  more  fully  one  or  two  of  the  reasons  which 
have  put  intellectualism  out  of  fashion. 

A  consideration  which  weighs  heavily  with  many 
thinkers  is  connected  with  the  conception  of  change.  I 
have  already  quoted  the  Modernists  on  this  point.  Scho- 
lastic theology  opposed  the  unchangeableness  of  the  Deity 
to  the  mutability  of  the  world.  But  is  an  absolutely  un- 
changing ground  of  continuous  change  thinkable  ?  And 
if  in  the  real  world — in  the  mind  of  God — there  is  no  change, 
what  is  the  use  of  the  time-process  ?  If  nothing  is  ulti- 
mately real  but  general  laws,  universals,  which  are  merely 
illustrated  by  happenings  in  time,  is  not  the  world  a  useless 
and  irrational  thing  ?  Sub  specie  aeternitatis,  the  goal  is 
already  attained ;  suh  specie  temporis,  it  is  unattainable. 
Whichever  way  we  look  at  it,  activity  seems  to  be  useless. 
In  the  universe  of  the  intellectualist,  they  say,  nothing 
ever  really  happens.  The  eternal  laws  of  God  are  eluci- 
dated in  a  million  concrete  instances  ;  but  why  is  all 
this  illustration  necessary  ?  Is  it  a  worthy  occupation 
for  the  Deity  to  be  perpetually  setting  Himself  easy 
sums,  of  which  he  knows  the  answer  beforehand  ?  Are 
we  to  imagine  Him  playing  an  unending  succession  of 
games  of  patience  by  Himself  ?  Does  the  order  of  the 
time-series  mean  nothing  ?  Might  it  just  as  well  be  read 
backwards,  like  a  reversed  cinematograj^jh  ?  Intellectual- 
ism gives  us  a  static  universe ;    and  a  static  universe, 


XI.]  FAITH  AND  REASON  196 

though  not  unthinkable,  is  absurd.  Beings,  such  as  God 
has  made  us,  claim  to  Uve  in  a  world  where  things  really 
happen,  where  their  energies  really  count  for  something 
and  determine  something.  And  if  this  claim  is  conceded, 
the  static-intellectualist  conception  of  reality  must  give 
way.  This  claim  is  made  not  only  in  the  interests  of  free- 
will and  morality,  but  of  the  rationality  of  the  cosmos. 

The  difficulty  about  change  and  immutability  has  been 
recognised  by  the  clearer  thinkers  among  the  old  philo- 
sophers, but  has  been  often  forgotten  by  others  who  are 
attracted  by  the  idea  of  changeless  being.  Mere  flux  and 
mere  stationariness  are  both  absurd,  and  neither  can  be 
predicated  of  reality.  The  old  notion  of  substance  as  the 
unchanging  substratum  of  change  gives  us  no  help.  Reality 
must  somehow  transcend  the  opposition  of  crrda-Ls  and 
KLvrj(TL<s.  Aristotle  tried  to  do  this  in  his  conception  of 
€V€py€ia.  For  him  Ivkpy^ia  is  a  higher  conception  than 
^vvafxiq :  it  is  the  actual  functioning  of  a  substance  whose 
real  nature  is  only  so  revealed.  He  says  that  KtVr^o-is  is 
imperfect  kvkpyna.  God's  energy  involves  no  *  move- 
ment '  ;  it  is  frictionless  activity.  '  Change  is  sweet  to 
us  because  of  a  certain  defect,'  he  says  :  the  Divine  life 
is  one  of  unceasing  and  unchanging  activity,  which  is  also 
an  eternal  consciousness  of  supreme  happiness.  This 
Aristotle  calls  eicpyeux  oLKLVYja-ia^.  It  is  eternal,  because  it 
precludes  the  conditions  of  the  time-consciousness.  For 
time  is  the  creature  of  motion  (KLnjcrts)  :  the  perfecting  of 
kvkpyeia  will  thus  involve  the  disappearance  of  time.  Time 
is  the  measure  of  the  impermanence  of  the  imperfect,  and 
the  perfecting  of  the  time-consciousness  would  carry  us 
into  eternity.  This  conception  of  an  evepyeia  dKivr}a-La<s  helps 
us  to  overcome  a  very  serious  difficulty,  which  lies  at  the 
root  of  many  religious  and  philosophical  perplexities. 

Plotinus  also  says  that  in  the  world  of  reality,  the  koct/xo? 
vo-qros,  the  opposition  of  thought  and  its  object,  of  identity 
and  difference,  of  motion  and  stationariness,  is  transcended. 


196  FAITH  [CH. 

It  is  quite  untrue  to  say  that  he  holds  a  static-intellectuaUst 
view  of  reality.  His  intelligible  world  is  not  the  world  of 
stationariness  as  opposed  to  motion,  but  the  sphere  where 
the  two  are  unified  and  harmonised.  He  knows,  of  course, 
that  discursive  thought  (5tai/oia)  does  not  effect  this 
reconciliation  ;  but  then  he  distinguishes  voh  and  Sidvoia, 
as  we  ought  to  do.  Thought  is  more  than  formal  logic  ; 
reason  is  greater  than  reasons.  In  fact,  it  would  be  hardly 
too  much  to  say  that  the  '  intellectuahsm '  of  modern 
voluntaristic  polemic  is  a  figment  of  the  pragmatists.  It 
was  not  reserved  for  modem  psychology  to  discover  that 
logic  is  not  identical  with  reahty.  And  then,  having 
created  this  bugbear  of  '  intellectuahsm,'  they  proceed  to 
*  empty  out  the  child  with  the  bath,'  as  the  Germans  say, 
and  construct  their  own  system  with  the  intellectual  factor 
contumeliously  excluded. 

However,  the  objections  just  mentioned  are  vahd  against 
exclusive  intellectualism  ;  and  they  show  how  fatal  it  is 
to  separate  any  one  of  our  faculties,  and  make  it,  by  itself, 
either  the  constitutive  principle  of  reality,  or  the  organ  by 
which  we  apprehend  reality. 

It  has  also  been  urged  against  intellectualism  that  know- 
ledge cannot  be  ultimate,  because  it  is  always  trying  to 
subvert  the  conditions  of  its  own  existence.  An  absolute 
conclusion  to  knowledge  would  involve  the  annulling  of  the 
distinction  between  knowing  and  being,  between  thought 
and  its  object ;  and  it  is  precisely  that  distinction  which 
is  the  condition  of  knowledge. 

This  argument  is  admitted  by  Plotinus  and  all  other 
philosophical  mystics.  Discursive  thought,  seeking  to  find 
unity  in  diversity,  ends  ideally  in  perfect  knowledge — i.e. 
in  the  complete  correspondence  of  thought  with  its  object. 
To  the  realist,  this  does  not  mean  that  the  distinction 
between  thought  and  its  object  has  wholly  ceased.  The 
eternal  world  is  not  a  world  in  which  subject  and  object 
have  devoured  each  other,  any  more  than  it  is  a  world 


XL]  FAITH  AND  REASON  197 

where  rest  and  activity  have  devoured  each  other.  In  the 
eternal  world,  according  to  Plotinus,  the  correspondence 
of  thought  and  its  object  is  still  the  One-Many,  not  the  One 
by  itself.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that  thought  in  eternity  has 
passed  into  a  higher  mode,  in  which  its  objects  are  present 
to  it  as  a  totality  ;  and  in  that  sense  the  process  of  thought, 
in  completing,  has  terminated  itself.  But  the  same  is 
obviously  true  of  the  will,  which  in  achieving  any  aim 
thereby  takes  it  out  of  the  sphere  of  will ;  for  will  requires 
an  unfulfilled  end.  In  heaven,  we  may  say,  thought  has 
become  knowledge,  and  morality  goodness,  though  in  some 
way  beyond  our  comprehension  both  remain  activities. 
In  this  transformation  we  may  suppose  that  truth  and 
goodness  are  at  last  fully  unified.  The  anti-intellectual 
objection  loses  its  force  if  we  use  intelligence,  not  of  the 
logic-chopping  faculty,  but  of  the  whole  personality  become 
self-conscious  and  self-directing,  with  a  full  realisation  of 
the  grounds  of  will  and  feeling.  If  we  must  name  this 
highest  state,  we  must  call  it  intelligence  rather  than  will,  i^ 
because  will  is  only  conscious  of  the  fact  of  desire,  not  of  / 
the  reasons  for  it. 

The  real  defect  of  rationalism  or  exclusive  intellectualism 
lies  in  its  attempt  to  prove  Faith,  or,  I  should  rather  say,  ) 
in  its  belief  that  it  has  succeeded  in  demonstrating  what 
cannot  be  demonstrated.  Rationalism  tries  to  find  a 
place  for  God  in  its  picture  of  the  world.  But  God, 
*  whose  centre  is  everywhere  and  His  circumference  no- 
where,' cannot  be  fitted  into  a  diagram.  He  is  rather  the 
canvas  on  which  the  picture  is  painted,  or  the  frame  in 
which  it  is  set. 

/^Reason,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  word  is  used  by  I 
rationalists,  is  part  of  the  material  of  Faith.  ^  They  forget 
that  this  knowledge  falls  far  short  of  the  *  gnosis,'  which 
is  the  ideal  fulfilment  and  satisfaction  of  Faith.  This 
true  gnosis  is  not  to  be  attained  by  thinking  only.  Julius 
Hare  warns  us  very  well  that  *the  being  able  to  give  a 


198  FAITH  [ch; 

reason  for  your  Faith  is  a  totally  different  thing  from 
having  Faith  ;  and  unless  the  Faith  be  really  in  you, 
your  being  able  to  give  a  reason  for  it  will  only  be  a  witness 
against  you  for  having  it  not.'  Faith  as  a  practical  power 
can  only  be  strengthened  practically.  To  put  the  same 
thing  rather  differently,  the  old  '  proofs  '  of  God's  existence 
claimed  to  have  made  the  opposite  view  unthinkable  or 
illogical.  But  atheism  is  not  unthinkable  or  illogical ; 
it  is  only  '  absurd,'  in  Lotze's  sense  of  the  word.  It  is 
rejected  by  Faith  as  a  hypothesis  which  would  reduce  the 
world  to  a  chaos,  a  malignant  trick,  or  a  sorry  joke.  Being 
ourselves  what  God  has  made  us,  we  have  a  right  to  call 
this  hypothesis  absurd,  and  to  let  it  go.  But  this  is  not 
the  rationalistic  idea  of  proof. 

^Pure  intellectualism  of  whatever  kind  ignores  the  neces- 
sary place  of  Faith  in  religion.  It  confounds  Faith  with 
knowledge.  It  is  easy  to  recognise  this  type.  Its  God  is 
*  the  One.'  He  is  triumphantly  monistic,  for  that  is 
almost  all  that  is  required  of  Him.  His  worshippers  easily 
fall  into  a  lofty  disdain  of  the  unphilosophic  vulgar.  This 
was  a  weakness  of  Greek  philosophy,  and  it  has  reappeared 
wherever  Faith  and  knowledge  have  been  identified.  In 
the  field  of  practice,  we  see  from  the  history  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance  how  easily  intellectual  morality  becomes 
Machiavellian,  and  how,  in  the  region  of  feeling,  intellectual- 
ism substitutes  artistic  sensibility  for  charity  and  affection. 
It  is  never  long  before  this  type  proves  its  unsoundness 
by  passing  out  of  religion  altogether.  Thus  the  fatal 
results  of  one-sidedness  are  once  more  brought  home  to  us. . 
^And  yet  some  intellectual  element  is  an  essential  con- 
dition of  the  activity  of  Faith.  Faith  is  a  feeling  of 
certitude  or  positive  assurance  ;  but  this  feeling  cannot 
exist  without  some  notion,  or  idea,  of  that  about  which 
certitude  is  felt.  We  might  as  well  try  to  walk  in  the  air, 
as  believe  without  an  idea  or  thought  for  Faith  to  embrace. 
The  nebulous  forms  of  incipient  thought  hardly  deserve 


FAITH  AND  REASON  199 

the  name  of  ideas  ;  they  must  be  reduced  to  the  semblance 
of  truth  by  mature  reflection  and  experience.  The  great 
end  of  the  intellectual  discipline  of  Faith  is  the  formation 
of  true  ideas  of  the  things  believed.  This  requires  much 
self-denial  and  honesty  of  purpose.  Things  are  what  they 
are,  not  what  we  think  them  to  be,  or  have  made  up  our 
minds  that  they  must  or  ought  to  be.  Faith  loses  all  its 
practical  efficiency  when  it  is  associated  with  false  ideas. 
The  true  light  saves,  but  the  false  light  destroys.  Much 
depends  on  the  ideas  and  objects  to  which  we  give  our 
love  and  trust.  There  is  in  operation  a  spiritual  law  or 
'  working  of  error,'  of  which  St.  Paul  speaks,  the  inevitable 
tendency  of  which  is  to  cause  men  who  hate  the  truth  to 
believe  a  lie.     | 

It  is  essential  to  Faith  that  we  should  believe  in  an 
objective  truth,  independent  of  our  thoughts  and  wishes. 
It  is  unfortunately  no  longer  a  truism,  but  a  controversial 
statement,  to  say  that  facts  are  stubborn  things,  or  that 
things  are  what  they  are.  But  we  must  hold  to  this 
rather  obvious  truth.  The  first  aphorism  of  the  Novum 
Organum  is  that  'Man,  the  minister  and  interpreter  of 
Nature,  does  and  understands  as  much  as  his  observations 
on  the  order  of  nature,  either  with  regard  to  things  or  the 
mind,  permit  him,  and  neither  knows  nor  is  capable  of 
more.'  That  is  to  say,  it  is  not  our  business  to  create  truth, 
but  to  discover  it.  Faith  believes  in  the  independent 
reality  of  its  objects,  and  in  the  knowableness  of  truth. 
The  demand  for  internal  consistency  and  correspondence 
with  external  fact  is  peremptory  :  it  cannot  be  silenced. 
The  belief  in  truth,  and  the  reverent  worship  of  it,  are  a 
large  part  of  religion  with  many  men,  and  with  a  few 
women.  '  With  certain  persons,'  says  Mr.  Bradley,  '  the 
intellectual  effort  to  understand  the  universe  is  a  principal 
way  of  experiencing  the  Deity.'  Spinoza,  whose  personal 
character  was  purely  admirable,  is  a  very  good  example 
of  this  type  of  religion.     '  Blessedness,'  he  says,  *  consists 


200  FAITH  [CH. 

in  love  towards  God,  and  this  arises  from  knowledge.  And 
the  mind  that  rejoices  in  the  divine  love  or  blessedness 
can  control  its  emotions.  The  ignorant  man  is  agitated 
by  external  causes,  and  never  obtains  true  peace  of  soul : 
whereas  the  wise  man,  conscious,  by  a  kind  of  eternal 
necessity,  of  himself,  of  God,  and  of  things,  is  always  in 
possession  of  true  contentment.'  He  concludes,  '  The  way 
must  be  arduous,  for  its  discovery  is  so  rare.  If  salvation 
could  be  discovered  without  great  toil,  how  could  it  be 
neglected  by  nearly  all  men  ?  But  all  things  excellent 
are  as  difficult  as  they  are  rare.'  Compare  too,  as  a  typical 
example  of  scientific  Faith,  these  words  of  Huxley  :  '  Sit 
down  before  fact  as  a  little  child,  be  prepared  to  give  up 
every  preconceived  notion,  to  follow  humbly  wherever 
and  to  whatever  abysses  Nature  leads  you,  or  you  shall 
learn  nothing.  I  have  only  begun  to  learn  content  and 
peace  of  mind  since  I  have  resolved  at  all  risks  to  do  this.'^ 
This  calm  cheerfulness  and  unshakable  confidence  that 
the  truth  is  salvation  to  him  who  can  find  it,  seems  to  me 
more  Christian  than  such  a  mental  attitude  as  is  described 
by  Lecky  :  '  Young  men  discuss  religious  questions  simply 
as  questions  of  truth  or  falsehood.  In  later  life  they  more 
frequently  accept  their  creed  as  a  working  hypothesis, 
as  a  consolation  in  calamities,  as  the  indispensable 
sanction  of  moral  obligation,  as  the  gratification  of  needs, 
instincts,  and  longings  which  are  planted  in  the  deepest 
recesses  of  human  nature,  as  one  of  the  chief  pillars  on 
which  human  society  rests.'  The  American  Leuba  says 
rather  irreverently  that  most  people  don't  so  much  believe 
in  God  as  iLse  Him.  But  God  will  not  be  '  used  '  for  other 
ult-erior  ends — ^He  is  either  the  ultimate  End,  or  He  is 
nothing. 
( It  seems  to  me  that  we  must  expect  that  if  humanity  is 

1  So  in  art,  J.  F.  Millet  says :  '  We  ought  to  be  steeped  in  Nature,  saturated 
with  her,  and  careful  only  to  thiuk  the  thoughts  whicn  she  inspires.  All  you 
need  is  intelligence  and  a  great  desire.  If  you  abandon  yourself  to  her 
service,  she  will  give  you  of  her  store.' 


XL]  FAITH  AND  REASON  201 

progressing,  the  intellect  must  play  a  larger  part  in  the  life 
of  Faith  in  the  future  than  it  has  done  in  the  past.  In  the 
brute  creation,  instinct  does  the  work  of  reason — sufficiently 
for  the  very  simple  conditions  in  which  the  animal  creation 
lives.  And  so  in  the  spiritual  life,  it  is  natural  to  suppose 
that  a  kind  of  instinct  of  the  Divine  is  implanted  in  the 
human  mind  as  soon  as  it  becomes  human.  But  as 
humanity  advances  to  a  more  complex  life,  and  has  to 
adjust  itself  to  new  conditions,  instinct  becomes  unequal 
to  the  tasks  laid  upon  it.  And  then  appears  the  new 
faculty  of  reason,  which  acts  at  first  haltingly  and  un- 
certainly enough,  often  failing  us  where  instinct  would 
have  guided  us  rightly.  But  we  must  accept  these  diffi- 
culties of  adjustment.  We  cannot  choose  to  continue  to 
be  guided  by  instinct ;  for  instinct  begins  to  fail  and  grow 
weaker,  wherever  the  potentiaHty  of  reason  exists.  We 
see  it  in  the  case  of  the  child.  The  human  infant  is  far 
more  helpless  than  the  young  of  other  animals.  Where 
instinct  keeps  them  alive,  it  leaves  the  human  child  to  die, 
unless  it  has  guardians  to  take  care  of  it,  and  bestow  upon 
it  an  amount  of  attention  which  would  be  utterly  impossible 
in  the  lower  ranks  of  creation.  And  yet  the  human  child 
is  destined  to  advance  far  beyond  the  most  intelligent  of 
the  brutes,  by  the  aid  of  the  faculty  of  reason,  which  is  so 
slow  to  develop,  and  so  unsafe  a  protector  until  it  is  more 
or  less  mature.  We  can  trace  the  same  law  by  comparing 
civilised  man  with  savages.  Our  instincts  are  decidedly 
weaker  and  less  protective  than  theirs,  though  our  reason 
is  so  much  stronger.  Is  it  not  likely  that  the  analogy  holds 
good  in  the  spiritual  life  ?  The  will  may  be  more  *  primary ' 
and  more  powerful  than  the  intelligence  ;  it  does  not 
follow  that  we  ought  to  make  the  will  rather  than  the 
intelligence  our  guide.  Reason,  when  it  has  come  into  its 
own,  is  a  far  finer  instrument  than  blind  will,  or  instinct. 
When  we  know  why  a  certain  course  is  right  or  wrong  ; 
when  we  have  a  clear  idea  of  what  we  are  aiming  at  in  our 


202  FAITH  [CH. 

actions,  we  are  not  less  likely  to  act  morally,  and  we  are 
much  more  likely  not  to  act  foolishly.  It  seems  to  me 
that  this  has  a  practical  bearing  on  social  morality.  The 
great  danger,  in  this  country  at  all  events,  is  that  we  are 
so  prone  to  be  guided  by  sentiment  and  wilfulness  instead 
of  by  reason.  We  may  be  told  that  this  is  a  penalty  that 
must  be  paid  for  popular  government,  since  the  masses 
will  always  be  swayed  by  their  emotions  and  desires,  and 
never  by  their  intellect.  To  this  we  can  only  answer  that, 
if  so,  we  are  likely  to  find  that  we  have  paid  too  high  a  price 
for  a  political  theory. 

I  should  also  like  to  remind  the  Voluntarists  that  desire, 
even  more  than  speculative  thought,  is  never  for  its  own 
continuance,  but  always  for  its  own  satisfaction  and  conse- 
quent cessation.  Unless,  therefore,  the  will  is  eternally 
self-stultifying,  eternally  and  necessarily  disappointed — 
which  is  the  creed  of  Pessimism — the  heaven  of  the  will 
is  always  static  in  respect  of  its  present  object.  In  other 
words,  the  will,  in  seeking  its  own  fulfilment,  seeks  to  pass 
into  that  higher  sphere  where  it  cannot  remain  will  pure 
and  simple,  but  must  pass  into  some  higher  mode  of 
activity. 

The  danger  of  Intellectualism,  as  of  other  one-sided  ideas 
of  Faith,  is  that  it  tempts  us  to  make  a  premature  synthesis, 
perhaps  leaving  us  in  bondage  to  the  lower  categories  of 
mechanism.  There  are  very  deep  antinomies  which  we 
must  accept  as  existing  for  our  minds  at  present,  though 
we  know  that  they  are  not  real  or  fundamental.  We  must 
take  no  short  cuts  to  self-consistency  by  suppressing  half 
the  truth.  God,  for  us,  is  both  changing  and  unchanging, 
blessed  and  suffering,  eternal  and  becoming.  These  are 
just  the  antitheses  which,  according  to  Plotinus,  are  trans- 
cended in  the  intelligible  world,  but  not  in  the  world  of 
our  common  experience. 

-J 


XII.]  THE  ESTHETIC  GROUND  OF  FAITH  203 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  ^ESTHETIC   GROUND  OF  FAITH 

Beauty  is  a  quality  which  the  Creator  has  impressed,  in 
various  degrees,  upon  nearly  all  His  works  ;  and  the  recog- 
nition of  beauty  is  a  faculty  with  which  very  many  conscious 
creatures  are  endowed.  We  are  often  surprised  at  the 
symmetry  and  beauty  which  appear  in  the  constructions  of 
animals — for  example,  in  the  nests  of  birds  and  the  honey- 
combs of  bees  ;  and  the  sexual  ornaments  which  many 
birds  and  beasts  exhibit  to  win  the  favour  of  their  mates 
prove  both  the  important  part  which  aesthetic  taste  plays 
in  modifying  species,  and  the  delicate  appreciation  of  beau- 
tiful forms  and  colours  which  makes  these  elaborate  dec- 
orations necessary.  Examples  of  ornaments  which  to  our 
taste  are  grotesque,  such  as  the  bright  colours  of  the  male 
mandrill  in  the  breeding-season,  are  so  rare  as  to  be  negli- 
gible exceptions  ;  far  more  significant  is  the  exquisite 
sheen  of  the  humming-bird's  wing,  or  the  glory  of  the 
peacock's  tail.  Nor  is  the  aesthetic  sense  of  the  lower 
animals  confined  to  form  and  colour.  The  song  of  the 
nightingale  proves  that  some  birds  are  no  mean  musicians  ; 
and  even  among  insects,  some  spiders,  we  are  told,  have 
to  please  the  female  by  an  exhibition  of  elegant  dancing. 
Moreover,  inanimate  nature  is  everywhere  beautiful. 
Even  decay  and  corruption,  which  in  the  animal  world  are 
repulsive,  are  beautiful  in  things  without  sentient  life. 

The  view  taken  in  these  lectures  is  that  Beauty  is  one 
of  the  fundamental  attributes  of  God,  which  He  has  there- 
fore impressed  upon  His  world.     I  hold  it  to  be  a  quality 


204  FAITH  [CH. 

'^  residing  in  the  objects,  and  not  imparted  to  them  by  the 
observer.  I  hold  Beauty  to  be,  Uke  Truth  and  Goodness, 
an  end  in  itself,  for  God's  creation.  If  so,  it  is  right  and 
natural  for  Faith  to  acknowledge  beauty,  and  to  strengthen 
itself  by  the  contemplation  and  practice  of  the  beautiful. 
To  this  view  two  objections  may  be  made.  First,  it 
has  been  argued  that  our  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful  is 
nothing  more  than  a  pleasant  feeling  arising  from  our  per- 
ception of  usefulness.  For  instance,  the  points  of  beauty 
in  a  human  face  and  figure  are  all  signs  of  health,  strength, 
intelligence,  and  character.  In  the  case  of  a  woman,  those 
lines  are  also  thought  beautiful  which  indicate  that  she  is 
well  suited  for  her  special  functions.  But  this  theory  does 
not  fit  the  facts.  Many  of  the  animal  decorations,  to  which 
we  have  just  alluded,  are  apparently  '  useless,'  except  to 
give  pleasure  by  their  form  and  colour.  And  the  same 
impossibility  of  reducing  the  beautiful  to  the  useful  is 
apparent  throughout  human  experience.  Illustrations  of 
this  will  occur  to  everybody.  Beauty  is  clearly  something 
sui  generis.  Secondly,  we  are  told  that  the  enjoyment  of 
beauty  is  purely  subjective.  Not  only  does  the  beautiful 
object  require  a  beholder,  and  one  who  has  a  seeing  eye, 
but  the  beauty  is  in  our  own  mind,  and  not  in  what  we  see. 
Now  it  would  be  a  bold  theory  that  the  beauties  of  a  play 

'  of  Shakespeare  are  put  there  by  us  his  commonplace 
readers.  Is  it  not  even  more  absurd  to  suppose  that  our 
minds  create  the  beauty  of  a  sunset,  or  of  a  glorious  action 
in  history  ?  Again,  if  the  appreciation  of  beauty  is  merely 
subjective,  there  is  no  appeal  from  individual  taste.     It  is 

'then  an  impertinence  to  speak  of  good  or  bad  taste,  for 

j  there  is  no  standard  to  which  taste  can  be  referred.  But 
no  one  can  seriously  maintain  that  the  proverb  De  gustihus 
non  est  disputandum  has  any  validity  in  the  higher  regions 
of  art,  of  natural  beauty,  or  of  seemliness  and  propriety  of 
conduct.  Moreover,  the  strong  protest  of  our  own  con- 
sciousness against  theories  of  subjectivity  ought  to  be 


THE  ESTHETIC  GKOUND  OF  FAITH  205 

given  due  weight.  When  we  admire  anything  or  anybody, 
we  invariably  beheve  that  the  quaUties  which  we  admire 
are  really  there,  and  if  we  find  that  we  have  been  deceived, 
our  admiration  vanishes  at  once.  *  All  the  objects  we  call 
beautiful,'  says  Reid,  *  agree  in  two  things,  which  seem  to 
concur  in  our  sense  of  beauty.  First,  when  they  are  per- 
ceived or  even  imagined,  they  produce  a  certain  agreeable 
emotion  or  feeling  in  the  mind  ;  and  secondly,  this  agree- 
able emotion  is  accompanied  with  an  opinion  or  belief  of 
their  having  some  perfection  or  excellence  belonging  to 
them.'  ^  The  subjective  and  objective  side  are  both  neces- 
sary ;  but  assuredly  philosophy  does  not  require  us  to 
refuse  the  name  of  beautiful  to  natural  objects  which  man 
has  never  beheld. 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene 
The  dark  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear. 

Some  have  even  found  in  this  thought  an  argument  for 
the  existence  of  God,  whose  eye  sees  and  enjoys  what 
otherwise  would  be  wasted  for  want  of  a  beholder. 

We  may  then,  I  think,  assert  the  independence  of  the 
Beautiful  as  a  revelation  of  the  Eternal  distinct  from  other 
revelations  which  come  to  us  through  science  and  the 
moral  sense.  And  since  Beauty  is  thus  conceived  to  have 
an  absolute  value,  the  natural  instinct  of  mankind  has  led 
us  to  connect  Beauty  with  the  object  and  mode  of  wor- 
ship. Whatever  men  have  thought  most  beautiful  they 
have  brought  and  offered  to  their  gods.  And  since  the 
religious  instinct,  in  all  its  forms,  finds  satisfaction  in 
creation  and  production  more  than  in  mere  receptivity, 
art  has  from  the  first  been  consecrated  to  worship.  Paint- 
ing, sculpture,  architecture,  music,  poetry,  and  ritual  are 
varying  expressions  of  this  tendency.    The  noblest  works 

1  Intellectual  Powers,  Essay  viii.  ;  quoted  by  Caldecott,  The  Philosophy  oj 
Religion,  p.  55. 


206  FAITH  [CH. 

of  imaginative  genius  have  been  either  partially  or  entirely 
inspired  by  religious  Faith. 

The  spirit  of  worship  is  somewhat  jealous  of  association 
/  with  utility.  UtiUty  tends  to  cramp  the  free  exercise  of 
the  creative  imagination,  and  forces  us  to  divide  our  atten- 
tion between  the  universal  and  the  particular.  Thus 
religious  cultus  has  always  contained  ceremonies  which 
have  no  bearing  on  practical  life,  and  within  the  sphere  of 
ordinary  conduct  religion  has  usually  issued  some  com- 
mands and  prohibitions  which  have  no  rational  sanction. 
Just  because  the  spirit  of  worship  rejects  indignantly  the 
limitation  of  its  scope  by  pragmatic  standards,  it  rejoices 
in  acts  which  are  a  revolt  against  moralism  and  intellectu- 
alism  alike.  The  aesthetic  instinct  is  more  independent 
of  utilitarian  considerations  than  the  intellect,  and  far 
more  than  the  moral  sense.  For  this  reason,  in  the  form 
of  poetical  and  religious  imagination,  it  penetrates  and 
illumines  regions  which  are  inaccessible  to  philosophy  and 
ethics.  And  its  reaction  upon  life  has  a  distinctive  quality,- 
the  loss  of  which  cannot  be  made  good  from  any  other 
source.  The  mind  that  is  dominated  by  perception 
of  the  beautiful,  and  by  the  love  of  it  which  can  hardly  be 
dissociated  from  this  perception,  will  certainly  carry  its 
habit  and  its  method  into  every  part  of  Ufe.  Among  a 
really  artistic  people  we  find  a  joyful  desire  to  do  every- 
thing well  and  appropriately.  '  What  has  to  be  done  is 
>  done  imaginatively  ;  what  has  to  be  spoken  or  made  is 
spoken  or  made  fittingly,  lovingly,  beautifully.'  ^ 

Some  writers  have  seen  in  '  the  Sublime '  the  link  be- 
tween sesthetical  feeling  and  religion.  Kant,  in  particular, 
quite  forgetful  of  the  limitations  which  in  his  Critique  of 
Pure  Reason  he  had  laid  upon  all  our  faculties,  invests 
the  Sublime  with  a  mystical  power  of  uniting  the  human 
spirit  with  the  infinite.  *  We  call  that  sublime  which  is 
absolutely  great.'     '  The  sublime  is  that  which  cannot 

A  Santayana,  Reason  in  Art,  p.  16. 


THE  AESTHETIC  GROUND  OF  FAITH  207 

even  enter  our  thought  without  the  help  of  a  faculty  which 
surpasses  the  standard  of  sense.'  '  Nature  is  sublime  in 
those  phenomena  which  convey  an  idea  of  its  infinity.'  ^ 
So  Longinus  says,  '  When  a  writer  uses  any  other  resource, 
he  shows  himself  to  be  a  man ;  but  the  sublime  lifts 
him  near  to  the  great  spirit  of  the  Deity.'  Kant,  Uke 
Burke,  whom  he  probably  follows,^  distinguishes  the 
Sublime  from  the  Beautiful,  instead  of  making  sublimity 
a  species  of  beauty.  This  is  perhaps  an  error.  It 
would  be  better  to  extend  the  meaning  of  beauty,  which 
has  too  often  been  confined  to  mere  prettiness,  to  cover 
the  grander  and  more  awe-inspiring  phenomena  of  nature. 
Winckelmann  acutely  observes  that  when  we  gaze  over 
the  broad  sea,  our  mind  at  first  appears  to  shrink  and  lose 
itself,  but  soon  returns  to  itself,  elevated  by  what  it  has 
beheld.  The  perception  of  the  Beautiful,  in  this  wider 
sense,  has  seemed  to  many  to  be  closely  akin  to  mystical 
intuition.3  This  view  is  put  into  philosophical  terminology 
by  Hegel,  who  says  :  '  The  Beautiful  is  essentially  the 
spiritual  making  itself  known  sensuously,  presenting  itself 
in  sensuous  concrete  existence,  but  in  such  a  manner  that 
that  existence  is  wholly  and  entirely  permeated  by  the 
spiritual,  so  that  the  sensuous  is  not  independent,  but  has 
its  meaning  solely  and  exclusively  through  the  spiritual 
and  in  the  spiritual,  and  exhibits  not  itself  but  the  spirit- 
ual.' *  This  belief  is  the  romantic  side  of  Greek  philosophy. 
It  finds  its  classical  expression  in  a  famous  passage  of 
Plato's  Symposium  ^ : — '  He  who  has  been  instructed  thus 
far  in  the  things  of  love,  and  has  learned  to  see  the  beautiful 
in  due  order  and  succession,  when  he  comes  towards  the  end 
will  suddenly  perceive  a  nature  of  wondrous  beauty  (and 
this  was  the  object  of  all  our  toils),  a  nature  which  in  the 

*  From  the  Critique  of  Judqimnt. 

*  Bosanquet,  History  of  JEsthetic,  p.  275. 

»  Ladd,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  vol.  i.  p.  441. 

*  Hegel,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  vol.  ii.  p.  8. 
»  Plato,  Symposium,  pp.  210,  211, 


208  FAITH  [cH. 

first  place  is  everlasting,  not  growing  and  decaying,  not 
waxing  and  waning  ;  not  fair  in  one  point  of  view  and 
foul  in  another  .  .  .  but  beauty  absolute,  separate,  simple 
and  everlasting,  which  without  increase  or  diminution  or 
any  other  change  is  imparted  to  the  ever-growing  and  ever- 
perishing  beauties  of  other  things.  He  who,  ascending 
from  these  under  the  influence  of  true  love,  begins  to 
perceive  that  beauty,  is  not  far  from  the  end.  And  the 
true  order  ...  is  to  begiu  with  the  beauties  of  earth  and 
mount  upwards  for  the  sake  of  that  other  beauty,  using 
these  as  steps  only,  and  going  on  from  fair  forms  to  fair 
practices,  and  from  these  to  fair  notions,  until  from  fair 
notions  he  arrives  at  the  notion  of  absolute  beauty,  and  at 
last  knows  what  the  essence  of  beauty  is.  .  .  .  What  if 
man  had  eyes  to  see  the  true  beauty,  the  divine  beauty, 
pure  and  clear  and  unalloyed,  not  clogged  with  the  pollu- 
tions of  mortality  and  all  the  colours  and  vanities  of  human 
life — looking  thither  and  communing  with  the  true  beauty, 
simple  and  divine  ?  In  that  communion,  and  in  that  only, 
beholding  beauty  with  the  eye  of  the  mind,  he  will  be 
enabled  to  bring  forth,  not  images  of  beauty,  but  reaUties 
(for  it  is  the  reality  and  no  image  that  he  grasps),  and 
produciug  and  cherishing  true  virtue  he  will  become  the 
friend  of  God,  and  immortal,  if  mortal  man  can  be  im- 
mortal.' 

According  to  this  passage,  which  contains  the  essence 
of  the  poetical  and  romantic  side  of  Plato's  philosophy, 
the  sense  of  beauty  is  a  joyous  witness  withui  us  to  the 
kinship  of  the  human  spirit  with  that  source  of  all  spiritual 
life  from  which  whatever  is  fair  and  noble  in  the  world 
proceeds.  Plato  is  not  afraid  to  trace  a  high  symbolic 
meaning  in  the  connection  of  the  sesthetical  sense  with 
sexual  passion.  '  All  love  is  of  the  immortal.  Mortal 
nature  seeks  as  far  as  possible  to  be  everlastiug  and  im- 
mortal ;  and  since  absolute  unity  in  continuance  is  not  to 
be  had,  even  in  the  life  of  the  individual,  men  desire  to 


XII.]  THE  ESTHETIC  GKOUND  OF  FAITH  209 

produce  a  new  generation  to  take  the  place  of  the  old.' 
This  transmission  of  life  is  the  human  substitute  and 
symbol  for  the  unchanging  hfe  of  Eternity. 

Thus  our  sense  of  beauty  is  an  imaginative  ^  representa- 
tion which  connects  our  present  experience  with  the 
eternal.  It  is  the  sesthetical  sense  which  most  vividly 
makes  the  past  and  future  live  in  the  present.  The  gift 
of  imagination  is  thus  a  psychological  intimation  of  im- 
mortality. This  prophetic  office  of  the  imagination  has 
been  far  too  much  neglected  by  rehgious  teachers  and 
philosophers.  We  see  the  result  in  the  tendency  of  culti- 
vated people  to  turn  to  the  poets  for  spiritual  guidance 
and  sympathy.  The  poets  seem  to  be  nearer  to  the  heart 
of  things  than  the  men  of  thought  or  the  men  of  action. 
They  have  the  advantage  of  working  in  the  most  plastic 
of  materials,  and  their  interpretation  of  ideal  reality  may 
therefore  have  a  higher  truth  than  the  somewhat  sorry 
experiments  which  history  records  in  the  field  of  the  actual, 
and  a  richer  colour  than  the  '  grey '  hues  of  philosophical 
theory.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  myth  and  legend  have 
played,  and  still  play,  so  important  a  part  in  reUgion, 
They  are  prized,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  for  their 
representative  value.  '  Poetry,'  says  Aristotle,^  '  is  more 
philosophical  and  of  higher  worth  than  history  ;  for  history 
records  what  has  actually  happened,  but  poetry  describes 
what  may  happen '  {i.e.  universal  truth). 

In  spite  of  this.  Faith  has  always  looked  upon  the 
sesthetical  sense  as  a  somewhat  dangerous  ally.  Being 
potentially  of  infinite  scope,  it  endeavours  to  embrace  all 
experience  and  classify  it  according  to  its  own  standards. 
And  *  of  all  premature  settlements,  the  most  premature  is 
that  which  the  fine  arts  are  wont  to  establish.'  ^    A  lovely 


1  'Imaginative'  is  not  the  same  as  'purely  subjective.'    There  may  be  an 
essential  connection  between  the  image  and  reality. 

2  In  the  Poetics. 

*  Santayana,  Reason  in  Art,  p.  217. 

0 


210  FAITH  [CH. 

dream  leaves  the  world  no  less  a  chaos,  and  makes  it  seem 
by  contrast  even  darker  than  before.  Visionary  pleasures 
make  the  world  no  better,  and  generally  bring  visionary 
pains  and  disorders  in  their  wake.  As  soon  as  art  loses 
touch  with  science  and  morality,  it  becomes  corrupt.  Just 
as  morality  for  morality's  sake  is  (in  spite  of  Kant)  im- 
possible and  self-contradictory;  just  as  truth  for  truth's 
sake  takes  us  no  further  than  pure  mathematics,  in  which 
all  values  are  hypothetical,  and  the  connection  with  the 
actual  world  is  broken  off,  so  beauty  for  beauty's  sake 
stultifies  itself  and  ceases  even  to  be  beautiful.  Our  three 
strands  of  natural  revelation  are  intertwined;  we  cannot 
unravel  them.  And  there  seems  to  be  a  mysterious  law 
in  the  spiritual  world,  that  to  aim  directly  at  a  thing  is  not 
the  way  to  hit  it.  Just  as  pleasure,  according  to  Aristotle, 
attends  virtue  as  the  bloom  upon  a  young  face  attends 
health,  but  is  not  the  immediate  object  of  moral  effort, 
so  beauty  regularly  appears  as  a  by-product  of  ethical 
striving  and  of  intellectual  search.  Perhaps  beauty  has 
an  ethereal  and  evasive  quality  which  belongs  only  to 
itself.  It  is,  says  Plotinus,  the  light  that  plays  over  the 
symmetry  of  things,  rather  than  the  symmetry  itself. 
A  modern  fK>et,  William  Watson,  has  expressed  the  same 
idea  in  a  fine  stanza : — 

Forget  not,  brother  singer,  that  though  Prose 
Can  never  be  too  truthful  nor  too  wise, 

Song  is  not  Truth  nor  Wisdom,  but  the  rose 
Upon  Truth's  lips,  the  light  in  Wisdom's  eyes. 

Even  in  art  itself,  Goethe  tells  us,  the  principle  is  the 
significant,  the  result  the  beautiful.  This  maxim  cuts  at 
the  root  of  artistic  dilettantism,  such  as  made  the 
'aesthetic'  coterie  in  Victorian  England  ridiculous  and 
contemptible;  for  what  does  art  'signify'  except  eternal 
reality,  which  is  good  and  true  as  well  as  beautiful  ? 

The  warning  furnished  by  decadent  art  is  indeed  valuable 


XII  ]  THE  ESTHETIC  GROUND  OF  FAITH  211 

and  instructive.  The  hero  of  Huysmans'  unpleasant  novel 
A  Rebours  makes  it  the  object  of  his  life  to  enjoy  everj^ 
kind  of  voluptuous  thrill  of  which  the  sesthetical  sense  is 
capable.  The  result,  as  might  be  expected,  is  spiritual 
rottenness.  Decadent  art  generally  shows  its  character 
by  over-elaboration  of  details  which  have  no  significance 
for  the  whole.  This  is  a  symbol  of  the  mental  disin- 
tegration which  accompanies  it.  The  decadent  is  in  a  state 
of  mind  clean  contrary  to  Faith.  He  despises  life,  hopes 
for  nothing,  and  loves  nobody.  It  is  no  wonder  that  he 
loves  to  sing  the  praises  of  death  and  dissolution. 

Plato,  whose  hostility  to  art  has  surprised  so  many  of 
his  admirers,  dreaded  its  tyranny  because  he  knew  its 
power.  Unless  it  can  cover  all  practice,  ennobling  action 
as  well  as  delighting  the  imagination,  he  will  have  none 
of  it.  The  mere  artist,  as  he  knew,  is  always  something 
less  than  a  gentleman. 

The  attitude  of  Greek  thought  toward  art  is  often  mis- 
understood. The  defects  of  Greek  aesthetic  theory  were 
mainly  three.  First,  in  accordance  with  their  preference 
for  plastic  representation,  in  which  their  pre-eminence  is 
undisputed,  they  attributed  too  high  a  value  to  symmetry  as 
compared  with  expressiveness.  Secondly,  they  only  slowly 
outgrew  the  mistaken  notion  that  art  directly  copies  reality 
and  must  be  judged  by  its  fidelity  to  some  given  original. 
It  was  this  error,  in  part,  which  led  Plato  to  disparage  art, 
as  further  removed  from  reality  than  nature.  Being  a 
great  thinker,  he  could  not  state  a  fallacy  of  this  kind 
without  suggesting  a  way  out  of  it ;  but  it  was  reserved  for 
Plotinus^  to  enuntiate  the  truth  that  the  arts  do  not 
simply  imitate  the  visible,  but  go  back  to  the  creative 
principles    {Xoyoi)^    from  which    nature  also    derives  its 

1  The  first  clear  recognition  of  imagination  {(pauraa-ia),  as  the  creativ*^. 
faculty  in  art,  is  due  to  Philostratus,  who  states  clearly  the  principle  that  we 
desire  in  vain  to  find  in  Aristotle's  Poetics.  *  It  was  imagination  that  pro 
duced_  these  masterpieces,  a  more  cunning  artist  than  imitation.  For 
imitation  represents  what  it  has  seen,  but  imagination  what  it  has  not  seen.' 


212  FAITH  [CH. 

forms.  Natural  things  themselves,  he  says,  *  imitate  * 
something  else,  namely,  these  formative  principles  or  types. 
The  arts  are  not,  then,  wholly  dependent  on  the  actual ; 
they  create  much  out  of  themselves,  and  supply  defici- 
encies in  nature  from  the  ideas  of  beauty  which  they  find 
in  themselves.  '  Pheidias  did  not  create  his  Zeus  after 
any  perceived  pattern,  but  made  him  such  as  Zeus  would 
appear  if  he  deigned  to  be  visible  to  mortal  eyes.'  ^  Thirdly 
(this  is  a  feature  in  Greek  thought  which  is  often  forgotten), 
the  Greeks  throughout  demanded  that  serious  art  shall  be 
morally  edifying.  A  poet  is  blamed  for  making  his 
characters  worse  than  the  plot  demanded.  In  fact,  there 
was  a  confused  tendency  to  apply  the  same  moral  standards 
to  works  of  art  as  to  real  life.  The  error  here  is  not  in 
holding  that  the  good  and  the  beautiful  are  ultimately  one, 
for  this  is  true  ;  but  in  imposing  our  morahty  on  the  ideal 
world,  and  *  playing  providence '  in  a  region  where  only 
the  divine  wisdom  and  goodness  bear  sway.  It  is  not  the 
province  of  art  to  solve  moral  enigmas,  least  of  all  by  the 
cheap  and  facile  expedient  of  inventing  a  *  poetical  justice  ' 
which  is  untrue  to  experience.  Our  moral  sense  is  not  a 
limiting  sphere  for  the  beautiful,  though  nothing  is  beautiful 
which  is  really  repugnant  to  the  Divine  purity  and  good- 
ness. Art,  when  not  hampered  by  the  '  moralistic  fallacy,' 
may  often  be  a  moral  educator.  Just  as  goodness  has 
often  an  unstudied  beauty  of  a  very  high  order. 

The  attitude  of  Christianity  towards  art  was  naturally 
determined  in  the  first  place  by  the  traditions  of  Jewish 
and  Graeco-Roman  culture,  which  coalesced  in  the  new 
religion.     Hebrew   art  was   symbolic,   not  pictorial,   the 

^  Enn.  V.  8.  Bosanquet  {History  of  Esthetic,  p.  113)  has  perhaps  given 
Plotinus  too  much  credit  for  this.  The  illustration  from  the  Zeus  of  Pheidias 
must  have  been  a  commonplace:  cf.  Cic,  Orator,  2:  'Nee  vero  ille  artifex, 
cum  faceret  lovis  formam  aut  Minervae,  contemplabatur  aliquem  e  quo 
similitudinem  duceret ;  sed  ipsius  in  mente  insidebat  species  pulchritudinis 
eximia  quaedam,  quam  intuens  in  eaque  defixus  ad  illius  similitudinem  artem 
et  manum  dirigebat.'  Also  Seneca,  Controv.  v.  p.  36:  *  Non  vidit  Phidias 
lovem.  .  .  .  Dignus  tamen  ilia  arte  animus  et  concepit  deos  et  exhibuit.' 


m 


THE  ESTHETIC  GKOUND  OF  FAITH  213 


Hebrew  genius  being  very  deficient  in  the  sense  of  form. 
For  instance,  in  the  Apocalypse,  such  images  as  that  of  a 
cubic  city  show  how  vaguely  the  writer  visualised  even 
his  visions.  On  the  other  hand,  the  sense  of  the  sublime 
in  nature  receives  a  nobler  expression  in  some  of  the  Psalms 
than  in  any  other  ancient  Uterature.  The  grandeur  of 
some  of  these  descriptions  has  indeed  never  been  sur- 
assed.  We  may  follow  Dean  Church  ^  in  his  selection  of 
examples : — 

*  The  day  is  thine  and  the  night  is  thine ;  thou  hast 
prepared  the  light  and  the  sun.' 

*  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firma- 
ment sheweth  his  handiwork.  One  day  telleth  another,  and 
one  night  certifieth  another.  .  .  .  Their  sound  is  gone  out 
into  all  lands,  and  their  words  to  the  ends  of  the  world.' 

'  Praise  the  Lord  upon  earth,  ye  dragons  and  all  deeps  : 
fire  and  hail,  snow  and  vapour,  wind  and  storm,  fulfilling 
his  word.' 

Or  that  noble  Psalm,  which  begins  with  Gloria  in 
excelsis  and  ends  with  In  terris  pax — the  twenty-ninth  : — 
Give  unto  the  Lord,  0  ye  mighty,  give  unto  the  Lord 
glory  and  strength.  Give  the  Lord  the  honour  due  unto 
his  name  ;  worship  the  Lord  with  a  holy  worship.  The 
voice  of  the  Lord  is  upon  the  waters  ;  it  is  the  glorious 
God  that  maketh  the  thunder.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is 
upon  many  waters.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is  mighty  in 
operation.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is  a  glorious  voice.  The 
voice  of  the  Lord  breaketh  the  cedar-trees  ;  yea,  the  Lord 
breaketh  the  cedars  of  Libanus.  He  maketh  them  all 
to  skip  like  a  calf ;  Libanus  also  and  Sirion  like  a  young 
unicorn.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  divideth  the  flames  of  fire. 
The  voice  of  the  Lord  shaketh  the  wilderness  ;  yea,  the 
Lord  shaketh  the  wilderness  of  Kades.  The  voice  of  the 
Lord  maketh  the  hinds  to  calve,  and  discovereth  the 
|^»forest8 ;   in  his  temple  doth  every  one  speak  of  his  glory. 


214  FAITH  [cH. 

The  Lord  sitteth  above  the  waterflood ;  the  Lord  remaineth 
a  King  for  ever.  The  Lord  shall  give  strength  unto  his 
people;  the  Lord  shall  give  his  people  the  blessing  of 
peace.' 

The  distinctive  note  of  Hebrew  religious  poetry  is  that  it 
is  never  pantheistic  in  its  homage  to  the  glories  of  nature. 
*  The  Lord  is  King,  he  the  people  never  so  impatient; 
he  sitteth  above  the  waterflood,  be  the  earth  never  so 
unquiet.'  *The  Lord  is  King,  the  earth  may  be  glad 
thereof;  yea,  the  multitude  of  the  isles  may  be  glad  there- 
of.' The  world  is  the  living  garment  of  God — *God 
hath  put  on  his  apparel,  he  hath  girded  himself  with 
strength' — but  there  is  no  tendency  to  deify  the  non- 
moral  processes  of  nature.  Rather,  God's  hand  is  seen  in 
the  bounty  which  giveth  food  to  all  flesh,  and  in  the  mercy 
which  is  over  all  His  works.  '  Thou  visitest  the  earth  and 
blessest  it,  thou  makest  it  very  plenteous.'  *He  healeth 
those  that  are  broken  in  heart,  and  giveth  medicine  to 
heal  their  sickness.  He  telleth  the  number  of  the  stars,  and 
calleth  them  all  by  their  names. ' 

This  firm  belief  in  the  transcendence  of  the  Creator  gives 
a  richer  note  to  the  nature-poetry  of  the  Psalms  and 
Prophets,  in  that  the  nothingness  and  vanity  of  the  material 
creation,  apart  from  Spirit,  are  recognised  as  well  as  its 
awful  magnificence.  *  Before  the  mountains  were  brought 
forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world, 
even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  thou  art  God.  For 
a  thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but  as  yesterday  when  it 
is  past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the  night.  Thou  earnest  them 
away  as  with  a  flood ;  they  are  as  a  sleep.  In  the  morning 
they  are  like  grass  which  groweth  up.  In  the  morning 
it  flourisheth  and  groweth  up;  in  the  evening  it  is  cut 
down,  and  withereth.' 

Later  Judaism  was  prosaic;  and  the  early  Christians 
also  do  not  appear  to  have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  these 
glorious  hymns.     In  fact,  the  Psalms  have  probably  been 


XII.]  THE  .ESTHETIC  GKOUND  OF  FAITH  215 

more  appreciated  in  our  own  day  than  in  any  previous 
century  since  they  were  written.  The  early  Church  was 
not  much  inspired  by  the  beauty  of  nature ;  and  in  its 
attitude  towards  art,  it  maintained,  on  the  whole,  the 
distrust  which  is  found  in  Plato.  The  utter  inadequacy 
of  all  sensuous  representations  of  the  divine  was  recognised, 
(the  more  fully  since  the  arts  were  now  decaying  rapidly), 
and  art  was  tolerated  mainly  as  picture-writing  for  the 
ignorant.  Augustine,  however,  introduces  a  great  deal  of 
Neoplatonic  teaching  into  his  theology,  on  aesthetics  as 
well  as  other  subjects.  What  this  teaching  was  will  be 
understood  better  if  we  quote  from  Plotinus,  the  fountain- 
head,  than  from  Augustine's  paraphrases. 

*  Just  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  speak  of  sensible 
beauties  if  we  had  never  seen  them,  so  we  should  not  be 
able  to  speak  of  the  arts  and  sciences  if  we  were  not  already 
in  possession  of  this  kind  of  beauty,  nor  of  the  splendour 
of  virtue  if  we  had  never  contemplated  the  face  of  justice 
and  temperance,  which  are  more  beautiful  than  the  even- 
ing and  morning  star.  We  must  contemplate  these  beauties 
by  the  faculty  which  our  soul  has  received  for  seeing  them  ; 
then  we  shall  feel  much  more  pleasure,  astonishment,  and 
admiration  than  we  do  in  presence  of  sensible  beauties. 
Let  us  consider  what  it  is  that  men  experience  when  they 
love  beauties  which  are  not  corporeal.  What  do  you  feel 
in  presence  of  noble  aspirations,  good  qualities,  and  all 
the  acts  and  sentiments  which  constitute  the  beauty  of 
souls  ?  What  is  the  object  which  causes  these  emotions  ? 
It  is  no  figure,  or  colour,  or  magnitude.  It  is  that  invisible  i 
Soul  in  which  one  sees  the  brightness  of  all  the  virtues  to 
shine,  when  one  contemplates  greatness  of  character, 
justice  of  the  heart,  pure  temperance,  and  courage  with  her 
stem  countenance ;  dignity,  and  modesty  with  her  calm, 
steady,  imperturbable  bearing,  and  above  all  the  Intelli- 
gence, the  image  of  God,  blazing  with  divine  light.  No  one 
who  beholds  these  things  can  doubt  that  he  beholds  the 


21<J  FAITH  [CH 

very  reality.  And  the  very  reality  is  beautiful.'  Ugliness, 
for  the  soul,  consists  in  intemperance,  injustice,  and 
cowardice.  The  soul  contracts  these  stains  by  mixing 
itself  with  earthly  and  carnal  things.  All  virtue,  therefore, 
is  only  'purification.  '  The  purified  soul  belongs  entirely 
to  God,  in  whom  is  the  source  of  the  beautiful  and  of  all  the 
qualities  which  have  affinity  with  it.  The  good  and  the 
beautiful  for  the  soul  is  to  become  like  unto  God  ;  for  He 
is  the  principle  of  beauty  and  of  being  ;  or  rather  being  is 
beauty.  And  the  good  and  the  beautiful  are  identical.  .  .  . 
We  must  ascend  then  to  the  Good,  for  which  every  soul 
craves.  If  any  has  seen  it,  he  knows  how  beautiful  it  is.* 
'  How  shall  a  man  see  the  ineffable  beauty,  which  dwells 
in  the  inner  shrine  of  the  temple,  and  is  not  brought  out  to 
the  gaze  of  the  profane  ?  When  he  sees  the  beauty  of 
material  objects  he  must  not  pursue  them,  but  knowing 
that  they  are  only  images  and  shadows  he  must  flee  to 
that  of  which  they  are  the  images.  He  must  call  into 
activity  a  faculty  of  spiritual  vision  which  all  have  but 
few  use.  What  then  can  the  inner  eye  perceive  ?  Being 
newly  awakened  it  cannot  at  once  look  upon  things  wholly 
bright.  First,  the  soul  should  be  accustomed  to  look  upon 
beautiful  actions,  then  upon  beautiful  works  (not  such  as 
the  arts  produce,  but  such  as  men  produce  who  are  called 
good),  and  then  let  it  look  upon  the  soul  which  produces 
these  good  works.  How  then  canst  thou  behold  the 
beauty  of  a  fair  soul  ?  Look  within ;  and  if  thou  seest 
thyself  to  be  not  yet  beautiful,  then,  just  as  a  sculptor 
who  desires  to  make  a  beautiful  statue  removes  this  and 
chisels  down  that,  polishes  here  and  cleanses  there,  until 
he  brings  to  view  a  beautiful  countenance  in  the  image,  so 
do  thou  take  away  that  which  is  redundant,  make  straight 
that  which  is  crooked,  cleanse  that  which  is  foul ;  and 
cease  not  to  work  upon  this  thine  image  until  the  divine 
beauty  of  virtue  shine  forth  upon  thee.'^ 

1  Flotixkus^  Enneadi  I.  L  6-9  abxidgedX 


THE  ^ESTHETIC  GROUND  OF  FAITH  217 

This  beautiful  passage  shows  how  the  later  Platonism 
reconciled  the  ascetic  and  aesthetic  strands  in  Plato's 
philosophy  of  the  beautiful.  Stem  discipline  is  needed 
to  purify  the  soul  from  the  taint  which  it  has  contracted 
by  contact  with  evil  and  ugliness.  For  only  the  pure  in 
heart  can  see  Grod  ;  only  the  purged  mind  can  behold  the 
loveliness  of  divine  reaUty.  This  is  no  artificial  combinar 
tion  of  contradictory  theories  ;  the  two  parts  complement 
and  safeguard  each  other.  This  view  passed,  practically 
unchanged,  into  Christianity.  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  argues, 
quite  in  the  manner  of  Plotinus,  that  since  nature  is  sym- 
boUc  of  the  divine  mind,  and  the  human  mind  is  the  image 
of  God,  the  human  mind,  if  pure  from  sin,  can  behold  Grod 
in  nature. 

In  English  theology  also  we  find  the  truest  appreciation 
of  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  of  the  high  religious  value  of 
the  aesthetic  tense,  in  writers  who  have  passed  under  the 
spell  of  Neoplatonism.  The  Cambridge  Platonists  of  the 
seventeenth  century  are  lifted  out  of  scholarly  pedantry 
by  the  poetic  feeling  which  beautifies  their  writings.  The 
following  extract  from  John  Smith's  Sermons  may  be  taken 
as  typical : — 

*  Let  us  inform  oar  minds  as  much  as  may  be  in  the 
excellency  and  loveliness  of  practical  reUgion  ;  that  behold- 
ing it  in  its  own  beauty  and  amiableness  we  may  the  more 
sincerely  close  with  it.  As  there  would  need  nothing  else 
to  deter  and  affright  men  from  sin  but  its  own  ugliness 
and  deformity,  were  it  presented  to  a  naked  view  and  seen 
as  it  is ;  so  nothing  would  more  effectually  conmiend 
religion  to  the  minds  of  men,  than  the  displaying  and  un- 
folding the  excellencies  of  its  nature,  than  the  true  native 
beauty  and  inward  lustre  of  religion  itself :  neither  the 
evening  nor  the  morning  star  could  so  sensibly  commend 
themselves  to  our  bodily  eyes,  and  delight  them  with  their 
shining  beauties,  as  true  reUgion,  which  is  an  imdefiled 
beam  of  the  uncreated  light,  would  to  a  mind  capable  of 


218  FAITH  [cH. 

conversing  with  it.  .  .  .  Religion  is  not  like  the  prophet's 
roll,  sweet  as  honey  when  it  was  in  his  mouth,  but  as  bitter 
as  gall  in  his  belly.  Religion  is  no  sullen  Stoicism,  no  sour 
Pharisaism ;  it  does  not  consist  in  a  few  melancholy 
passions,  in  some  dejected  looks  or  depressions  of  mind  ; 
but  it  consists  in  freedom,  love,  peace,  life,  and  power ; 
the  more  it  comes  to  be  digested  into  our  lives,  the  more 
sweet  and  lovely  we  shall  find  it  to  be.  Those  spots  and 
wrinkles  which  corrupt  minds  think  they  see  in  the  face 
of  religion,  are  indeed  nowhere  else  but  in  their  own 
deformed  and  misshapen  apprehensions.  It  is  no  wonder 
when  a  defiled  fancy  comes  to  be  the  glass,  if  you  have  an 
unlovely  reflection.  Let  us  therefore  labour  to  purge  our 
own  souls  from  all  worldly  pollutions  ;  let  us  breathe  after 
the  aid  and  assistance  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  that  it  may 
irradiate  and  enlighten  our  minds,  that  we  may  be  able 
to  see  divine  things  in  a  divine  light  :  let  us  endeavour  to 
live  more  in  a  real  practice  of  those  rules  of  religious  and 
holy  living  commended  to  us  by  our  ever-blessed  Lord  and 
Saviour.  So  shall  we  know  religion  better,  and  knowing 
it  love  it,  and  loving  it  be  still  more  and  more  ambitiously 
pursuing  after  it,  till  we  come  to  a  full  attainment  of  it, 
and  therein  of  our  own  perfection  and  everlasting  bliss.'  ^ 

In  the  eighteenth  century  Lord  Shaftesbury  propounded 
in  attractive  style  a  theory  of  ethics  which  is  predominantly 
sesthetical.  His  philosophy  is  Uttle  more  than  an  easy- 
going pantheism,  but  he  has  won  considerable  fame  as  the 
chief  English  exponent  of  this  type  of  theism.  Hutcheson, 
who  is  usually  mentioned  with  him,  claimed  that  the  sense 
of  beauty  is  universal  and  immediate,  a  view  which  I  have 
maintained  in  these  lectures. 

The  English  poetry  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  borne 
noble  witness  to  this  side  of  religion.  Shelley  and  Words- 
worth, in  spite  of  the  vast  chasm  which  divides  them,  are 
at  one  in  their  insistence  on  the  sacredness  of  natural  beauty. 

1  John  Smith,  The  Nobleness  of  True  Religion, 


THE  ESTHETIC  GROUND  OF  FAITH  219 


Both  are,  in  a  sense,  pantheistic;  but  while  Shelley  gives 
us  a  kind  of  non-ethical  Platonism,  Wordsworth  is  strong 
in  his  severe  self-discipline  and  moral  earnestness.  No  lover 
of  the  beautiful  has  escaped  more  triumphantly  the  pitfalls 
which  beset  the  direct  worship  of  beauty  than  the  great 
poet  of  the  English  Lakes.  His  purity,  unworldliness,  and 
high  seriousness  give  him  an  exalted  rank  among  religious 
teachers;  and,  as  has  been  observed  more  than  once,  he 
stands  the  practical  test  of  being  resorted  to,  and  not  in 
vain,  by  many  troubled  spirits. 

Ruskin  describes  four  sources  of  beauty:  the  record 
of  conscience;  the  symbolising  of  divine  attributes  in 
matter;  the  felicity  of  living  things;  and  the  perfect 
fulfilment  of  their  duties  and  functions.^  'External 
nature  is  glorious  as  a  symbol  of  God's  nature;  the  felicity 
of  animal  life  is  evidence  of  His  kind  presence;  excellent 
working  is  evidence  of  obedience  to  His  will;  and  eon- 
science  is  His  approving  voice/ 

Professor  Seeley^  points  out  that  science  and  art  are 
both  *  religions';  which  is  the  reason  why  they  clash  so 
violently,  at  times,  with  what  is  commonly  called  religion. 
In  other  words,  the  worship  of  the  true  and  the  beautiful 
is  as  much  a  worship  of  God  as  the  worship  of  Him  under 
the  form  of  goodness.  This  again  is  in  accordance  with  the 
view  taken  in  these  lectures.  Seeley  very  properly  pro- 
tests against  the  abuse  of  the  word  'atheism,'  which  was 
more  common  when  he  wrote  than  it  is  to-day.  'Art  and 
science  are  not  of  the  world,  though  the  world  may  corrupt 
them;  they  have  the  nature  of  religion.'  'If  we  look  at 
the  history  of  the  modern  theory  of  culture  we  shall  per- 
ceive that  its  characteristic  feature  is  precisely  the  assertion 
of  the  religious  dignity  of  art  and  science.  Goethe  and 
Schiller  habitually  apply  the  language  of  religion  to  art. 
...  In  their  minds  beauty,  truth,  and  goodness  are  of  one 

1  Modem  Painters,  vol.  ii. ;  Caldecott,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,  p.  190. 

2  Natural  Religion,  passim. 


220  FAITH  [CH. 

family  ;  only  they  oppose  the  Puritanism  which  sets  good- 
ness at  an  unapproachable  height  above  its  sisters,  and  they 
are  disposed  rather  to  give  the  highest  place  to  beauty.' 
Seeley  gives  us  no  theory  of  the  beautiful ;  he  only  bids 
us  observe  that  its  votaries  pursue  it  in  the  spirit  of  the 
genuine  worshipper. 

On  the  Continent,  the  philosophers  who  have  laid  most 
stress  on  the  aesthetical  ground  of  Faith  are  perhaps  Fries, 
Novalis,  and  Cousin.  For  the  first  two  I  will  be  content  to 
refer  you  to  histories  of  philosophy,  or  to  the  writers 
themselves.  Cousin  (1792-1867)  is  a  good  modem  example 
of  the  type  which  we  are  now  considering.  All  natural 
beauty,  he  says,  is  an  image  of  ideal  beauty,  which  is 
realised  only  in  God.  The  physically  beautiful  is  the 
wrapping  of  the  intellectually  and  morally  beautiful. 
Moral  beauty  comprises  two  elements,  justice  and  charity. 
He  who  is  consistently  just  and  charitable  is  in  his  way  the 
greatest  of  artists.  God  is  the  principle  of  all  three  orders 
of  beauty,  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral.  Moreover, 
the  sublime  and  the  beautiful  meet  and  amalgamate  in 
His  nature. 

Enough  has  now  been  said  to  show  that  in  the  opinion 
of  many  great  minds  the  beautiful  is  one  of  the  chief  avenues 
to  the  knowledge  of  God.  I  beUeve  that  in  this  country 
we  have  neglected  it  to  our  great  loss.  We  have  been  too 
prone  to  throw  away  one  of  the  chief  antidotes  to  worldli- 
ness  and  lowness  of  aim.  Neglect  of  beauty  is  stamped 
on  our  whole  civilisation,  which  still  presents  far  too  many 
coarse  and  unlovely  features.  Commercialism  has  helped 
to  destroy  what  might  be  a  source  of  inexhaustible  spiritual 
wealth.  For,  like  all  the  best  gifts  of  God,  beauty  is 
within  the  reach  of  all,  and  there  is  no  limit  to  its  store. 
The  sesthetical  sense  refines  and  gladdens  life,  making 
poverty  dignified,  and  wealth  no  longer  vulgar. 

But,  more  than  any  other  type  of  reHgion,  this  needs 
discipline    and    true    seriousness.      *  Romanticism ' — the 


xri.]  THE  ESTHETIC  GROUND  OF  FAITH  221 

movement  which  began  with  NovaUs  and  survives  in 
many  supporters  of  the  *  CathoHc  revival ' — is  too  often 
a  somewhat  frivolous  mental  attitude,  a  mode  of  mild 
sensuous  pleasure.  It  is  most  agreeable,  perhaps,  to 
those  who  have  time  on  their  hands,  and  who  wish 
to  enjoy  their  religious  sensations.  The  whole  romantic 
movement,  on  its  reUgious  side,  bears  the  marks  of  a 
revival — an  imitation  of  the  past.  In  its  earlier  stages 
the  most  conscientious  ejfforts  were  made  to  recover  the 
entire  religious  atmosphere  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Just  as 
pseudo-Gothic  castles  were  erected  by  pacific  nineteenth- 
century  squires  and  retired  stockbrokers,  so  the  ecclesi- 
astical fashions  of  the  centuries  before  the  Reformation 
were  carefully  copied,  and  the  beUefs  and  disciplines  of 
our  semi-barbarous  ancestors  were  held  up  for  our  accept- 
ance and  imitation.  The  temporary  success  of  so  artificial 
a  creation  is  a  measure  of  the  loss  which  the  human  spirit 
feels  when  worship  is  divorced  from  beauty. 

The  deepest  service  which  Christianity  has  rendered  to 
art  is  closely  connected  with  the  ground  of  their  frequent 
estrangements.  The  Incarnation  means  that  the  universe 
shares  man's  relation  to  its  Creator.  As  the  world  is  the 
living  vesture  of  God,  so  when  the  Logos,  through  whom 
all  things  were  made,  assumed  human  form,  in  exalting 
humanity  He  ennobled  also  the  whole  of  man's  environ- 
ment. In  proclaiming  this  truth,  Christianity  introduced, 
potentially,  a  new  force  and  freedom  into  art.  Deeper 
notes  were  sounded ;  discords,  formerly  ignored,  were 
caught  up  into  a  higher  harmony.  Suffering  was  recog- 
nised as  divine,  and  thereby  transmuted  ;  death  was  faced, 
welcomed,  and  conquered.  Henceforth  the  facile  grace 
and  symmetry  of  ancient  art  were  impossible,  and  each 
pagan  revival  has  viewed  Christianity  askance,  as  intro- 
ducing ugliness  and  discord  into  the  new  Olympus.  But 
the  stone  gods  can  never  five  again.  Beauty  is  too  large 
and  too  divine  a  thing  to  ignore  any  part  of  reality.    It  was 


222  FAITH  [ca 

not  given  us  to  use  as  a  decorative  adjunct  to  life.  Faith 
bids  us  go  through  the  whole  of  our  life  in  the  spirit  of  a 
worshipper ;  and,  as  in  the  ancient  mysteries,  the  fairest 
and  fullest  visions  are  reserved  for  the  end  of  the  course. 
Faith,  meanwhile,  has  to  grapple  with  much  intractable 
ugliness,  only  secure  of  her  final  victory. 


wTi.]      HAKMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT       223 


I 


CHAPTER    XIII 

FAITH  AS  HARMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT 

We  have  now  reached  the  last  stage  of  our  inquiry  into 
the  nature  of  Faith.  We  have  found  that  it  is  a  divine 
endowment  of  human  nature,  which  operates  through  our 
natural  faculties.  It  emerges  into  consciousness  as  a 
vague  instinct — a  prompting  which  impels  us  to  look  for 
a  meaning  in  life — to  seek  behind  the  veil  of  ever-changing 
phenomena  some  permanent  and  solid  reality  which  shall 
be  proof  against  '  the  wreckful  siege  of  battering  days,' 
and  which,  by  setting  before  us  an  absolute  standard,  shall 
give  us  the  right  always  to  aspire.  This  instinct  is  of  vary- 
ing intensity,  but  at  first  it  is  without  form  and  void.  It 
seeks  for  forms,  for  a  mould  which  it  may  enter,  and 
generally  finds  it  in  one  or  other  of  the  creeds  which  are 
presented  to  it  as  authoritative.  But  whereas  it  is  potentially 
rich  in  varied  contents,  capable  of  correspondences  which 
link  our  complex  human  nature  with  the  divine,  and  where- 
as all  these  correspondences  are  at  first  wrapped  up  and 
withdrawn  from  consciousness,  Faith  can  never  come  to 
its  own  except  by  being  lived  into — experienced  in  a  life 
which  should  be  as  full  and  rich  and  as  many-sided  as 
possible.  There  are  no  short  cuts  to  a  perfect  Faith, 
though  there  are  many  provisional  and  avowedly  prematura' 
syntheses  of  which  we  may  and  must  avail  ourselves. 

*  Faith  is  Ufe,'  as  Mr.  Skrine  says  in  his  beautiful  little 
book,    What  is  Faith  ?  ^     '  What  to  the  vine-branch  v 


1  P.  30  sq,q. 


224  FAITH  [ch. 

>  living,  that  to  man  is  believing.  We,  like  the  branch,  are 
saved  if  we  abide  in  the  Vine,  that  is,  if  we  are  ahve.  If 
life  is  the  adjustment  of  the  internal  relations  of  a  living 
,  thing  to  the  external  relations,  Faith  is  the  response  of  the 
\organism  which  we  name  the  soul,  to  that  environment 
'which  we  call  God.  Souls  are  kept  in  life  by  their  obedience 
to  one  law — their  true  response  to  all  the  forces  touching 
\them,  which  come  from  God.'  *  A  man's  salvation  is 
measured  by  the  degree  in  which  he  is  alive.     Ts  he  in 

'  definite,  full,  various,  increasing  correspondence  with  God  ? 
Is  he  alive  on  the  side  of  mind  ?  Does  the  organ,  by  which 
he  is  sensible  to  the  world  of  fact,  adjust  its  activities  to  the 
arrangement  of  those  facts  ?  Does  it  mirror  things  as 
they  are  and  not  as  he  would  wish  them  to  be  ?     Does  it 

<Veave  on  the  magic  loom  of  consciousness  the  true  pattern 
of  the  landscape  beyond  the  window  of  self  ?  Is  he  alive 
on  the  side  of  emotion  ?  Is  there  an  answer  of  the  heart 
to  the  relations  of  that  nearest  environment,  Humanity  ? 
Has  he  love,  which  is  the  response  to  the  fact  of  a  brother- 
hood encircling  him  ?  Are  his  sympathies  quick,  and  does 
a  neighbour's  grief  stir  pity  in  him,  and  his  joy  a  joy  ?  Is 
he  alive  on  the  side  of  action  ?  Does  the  movement  of  the 
practical  order — the  thing  that  is  done  upon  earth — stir  a 
vibration  in  his  will  ?  Do  the  things  that  God  doeth  Him- 
self— His  works  seen  in  the  process  of  nature  and  in  the 
state — find  him  a  fellow- worker  ?  Does  he  by  his  activity 
propel,  and  by  his  passivity  smooth,  the  march  of  better- 
ment ?  To  do  and  be  these  things  is  to  be  aUve  ;  and  to 
live  is  to  be  in  Faith.' 

I  am  glad  to  quote  these  eloquent  words,  which  express 
very  well  the  general  view  of  the  normal  growth  and  life 
of  Faith  which  I  have  upheld  in  these  lectures.  All 
through  I  have  been  deprecating  that  tendency  to  snatch 
at  some  creed  or  formula  or  theory  which  will  save  us  any 
more  trouble.  We  have  found  guides  who  say  to  us  : 
Take  this  vague  Faith-consciousness  as  it  is.     Intensify  it 


XIII.      HARMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT      225 

and  enjoy  it,  but  do  not  analyse  it  or  test  it.  Or:  Tell  it 
to  endorse,  unexamined,  the  creed  which  we  present  to 
you.  Let  Faith  back  the  bill,  recklessly,  and  you  will 
then  be  happy.  Or:  Make  Faith  the  sworn  ally  of  your 
moral  sense,  which  is  the  most  important  part  of  us,  and 
let  the  rest  go.  Regard  the  'world  as  will,'  and  all  that  is 
non-moral  in  it  as  merely  instrumental,  even  unreal.  Or: 
Pin  your  Faith  to  science  or  philosophy,  and  let  your 
religion  be  'the  intellectual  love  of  God.'  Or,  lastly: 
Love  harmony  and  beauty  within  and  without.  Let  your 
life  be  a  poem  in  God's  honour.  These  premature  syn- 
theses all  leave  out  some  essential  part  of  our  nature. 
We  cannot  acquiesce  in  them,  just  because  we  are  one  our- 
selves, not  a  collection  of  independent  faculties.  We  are 
driven  to  aim  at  unifying  our  outward  experience  as  well  as 
our  inward  lives.  So  strong  is  this  craving  for  unity  that 
it  seems  to  me  a  faithless  act  to  refuse  the  quest. 

The  belief  that  Reality  must  be  one  does  not  rest  on  any 
fancied  superiority  of  the  number  One  over  the  number 
Two,  but  on  the  fact  that  inclusiveness  and  harmony  belong 
to  the  idea  of  reality.  If  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  Divine 
Mind,  it  must  be  at  unity  with  itself,  and  it  must  embrace 
all  things. 

But  though  our  object  is  to  discover  the  underlying  unity 
of  reality,  we  do  not  wish  to  fall  into  the  error  attributed 
by  some  to  Greek  philosophy — that  of  regarding  the 
individual  as  something  to  be  explained  away.  We  under- 
stand a  thing  in  proportion  as  we  recognise  its  unique 
features,  the  things  which  make  it  different  from  all  other 
things.  If  we  begin  by  saying  that  since  all  things  are 
one,  all  dividing  lines  must  be  illusory,  our  minds  will  be 
reduced  to  a  blank.  It  is  only  in  the  dark  that  all  colours 
agree.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  the  only  way  to  know 
the  whole  of  reality  is  to  know  one  part,  no  matter  how 
small,  through  and  through.  This  is  why  the  quietistic 
mysticism,  to  which  I  referred  in  an  early  lecture  of  this 

p 


226  FAITH  [oh. 

course,  is  so  unsatisfactory.  It  shuns  and  distrusts  all 
particular  truths,  and  in  consequence  gives  us  only  a  blank 
sheet  of  paper,  at  which  we  may  gaze  if  we  will  till  we  fall 
into  a  trance.  If  any  definite  form  emerges  from  the 
trance,  it  is  certain  that  it  was  not  created  by  the  trance, 
but  that  it  is  a  vivid  picture  of  something  which  we 
have  been  taught;  probably  the  product  of  ages  of 
reflection  upon  the  eternal  world.  Moreover,  the  fact  that 
the  whole  may  be  known  by  thoroughly  knowing  one  part, 
is  a  principle  of  great  practical  importance.  For  complete 
all-round  self-culture  is  an  impossibility,  and  we  cannot 
even  aim  at  it  without  danger  of  becoming  futile  dilettanti. 
We  have  to  limit  ourselves  strictly  and  narrowly.  We 
have  to  be  something  particular,  which  excludes  the  possi- 
bility of  becoming  a  hundred  other  particular  things. 
Some  real  self-sacrifice  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  being 
members  of  a  body  and  we  must  accept  it.  What  we  miss 
in  this  way  we  must  supply  as  best  we  can  from  authority 
— by  borrowing,  that  is  to  say,  from  others.  But  the  loss 
is  not  very  great.  For  all  thorough  work  has  an  universal 
I  quality  about  it ;  so  that  the  man  who  can  do  any  one 
[worthy  thing  well,  is  not  generally  narrow-minded.  He 
knows  far  more  about  God,  the  world,  and  his  own  soul 
V/  than  the  dabbler  who  is  Jack  of  all  trades,  and  master  of 
none.  This  is  one  of  the  things  which  justifies  us  in  holding 
a  reasonably  optimistic  view  about  human  society.  No 
civilisation  is  possible  without  division  of  labour,  and  all 
division  of  labour  involves  one-sidedness,  and,  in  a  sense, 
the  mutilation  of  personafity.  But  as  the  theologians  of 
the  Divine  Immanence  have  insisted  that  God  is  not  only 
everywhere,  but  in  omnibus  totus,  so  it  appears  tJiat  faithful 
devotion  to  any  worthy  pursuit  does  open  to  us  avenues 
extending  to  the  Infinite.  Browning's  grammarian  found 
this  even  in  the  study  of  Greek  syntax.  If  this  case  is 
historical,  some  of  you  will  think  that  no  one  need  despair. 


XIII.]      HARMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        227 

Every  one  may  follow  Emerson's  advice  and  '  hitch  his 
wagon  to  a  star.'  ^ 

At  the  same  time  this  division  of  labour  naturally  pro- 
duces religious  difficulties.  '  Specialised  values/  as  Hoff- 
ding  says,  '  attain  a  self-dependence  over  against  that 
concentration  of  all  values  which  characterises  religion.' 
The  very  fact  that  we  have  found  a  measure  of  universal 
truth  in  our  chosen  pursuit — that  it  has  been  a  means  of 
grace  and  revelation  to  us — makes  us  jealous  of  granting  the 
same  kind  of  value  to  other  pursuits  which  have  taught  us 
nothing.  If  we  have  made  the  order  of  nature,  or  art,  or 
active  social  service,  the  frame  for  our  picture  of  the  Deity 
(and  *  every  concept  of  God  is,'  as  Fichte  says,  *  the  con- 
cept of  an  idol,  an  etSwAov,  not  the  whole  reality),  we  are 
apt  to  regard  ourselves  as  the  only  true  worshippers,  and 
those  who  have  come  to  the  truth  from  another  side  as 
robbers  who  climb  into  the  fold  '  some  other  way  '  instead 
of  through  the  door.  Every  exclusive  object  of  interest 
acquires  a  spurious  universality,  which  is  the  progenitor  > 
of  intolerance. 

I  referred  briefly  in  one  of  my  earlier  lectures  to 
what  I  called  the  threefold  cord — the  ideas  of  truth, 
beauty,  and  goodness,  which  emerge  as  ideals  when  Faith 
becomes  conscious  of  its  aims.  The  life  of  God,  so  far  as 
we  can  apprehend  it,  is  the  sphere  in  which  the  ideals 
of  wisdom,  beauty,  and  goodness  are  fully  realised  and 
fully  operative.  I  say  fuUy  realised  and  fully  operative, 
though  the  two  may  seem  difficult  to  harmonise.  We'^ 
think  of  God  under  the  two  modes  of  essence  (or  substance)  i 
and  existence.  Under  the  first  mode  He  appears  as  pure 
Thought,  perfect,  unchanging,  completely  victorious  over 
evil.  Under  the  form  of  existence — the  *  moving  image 
of  eternity  ' — He  appears  as  pure  Act  or  Will — involved  in 

1  Nevertheless  it  is  true  that  Christianity,  as  a  social  religion,  has  renounced 
the  Greek  aspiration  after  mirdpKeia, 


228  FAITH  [cH. 

temporal  and  spatial  inter-relations,  in  which  He  energises 
and  *  works  His  sovereign  will.'  In  this  second  mode  the 
thought  of  God's  action  is  split  up  doubly,  as  it  were,  (1)  into 
past,  present,  and  future  ;  (2)  into  power  and  resistance. 
As  regards  the  former,  if  the  time-process  is  fully  real,  and 
if  it  is  the  extemalisation  of  the  conscious  life  of  God,  we 
are  driven  to  the  hypothesis  of  a  God  who  is  really  in  a 
state  of  becoming,  of  self-evolution.  But  this,  besides  the 
objection  justly  taken  on  the  religious  side  to  the  con- 
ception of  a  God  who  is  not  yet  fully  divine,  involves,  I 
believe,  a  radically  unscientific  view  of  progress.  Science 
knows  nothing  of  universal  progress,  nor  of  a  world-process 
which  is  only  valuable  for  the  sake  of  its  last  term.  A 
truer  philosophy  holds  that  there  is  no  development  in  the 
life  of  God  Himself,  but  only  in  the  changing  phenomena 
which  represent  His  thoughts  under  the  form  of  self- 
fulfilling  activity.  The  divine  in  the  creation  is  only 
adequately  represented  when  the  whole  of  the  time-process 

^is  gathered  up  into  its  final  meaning  and  purpose,  when,  in 
J  fact,  the  mode  of  becoming  is  united  with  the  mode  of 

^  being.  This  I  conceive  to  be  the  eternal  world — not  a 
world  of  immobility  in  contrast  with  a  world  of  change, 
but  a  world  in  which  the  antinomy  of  becoming  and  being, 
of  motion  and  rest,  is  transcended.  A  system  of  thought 
without  will  and  action  has  a  merely  potential  reality ; 
and  on  the  other  hand  will  and  action  are  nothing  without 
a  permanent  background  which  is  not  in  a  state  of  flux. 
Thus,  as  I  have  tried  to  show,  static  intellectualism  and 
empirical  positivism  are  both  wrong — they  are  one-sided 
systems  which  ultimately  destroy  themselves.  To  view 
things  sub  specie  aeternitatis  is  not  to  view  them  as  abstrac- 
tions, floating  in  the  air,  and  only  illustrated  by  *  the 
things  that  are  made,'  but  to  penetrate  to  the  inner  mean- 
ing and  permanent  value  of  phenomena,  giving  them  their 
proper  rank  and  spiritual  significance,  separating  that  in 
them  which  has  only  a  transitory  importance,  and  realising 


nH'    HABMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        229 


their  connection  with  larger  aspects  of  the  divine  plan, 
which  stretch  out  in  all  directions  beyond  our  ken.  And 
as  the  object  perceived  by  Faith  is  neither  a  pure  idea  nor 
a  pure  activity,  but  an  idea  embodied  in  an  activity,  an 
activity  expressing  an  idea  ;  so  the  energy  of  Faith  is  not 
thought  detached  from  action,  nor  action  detached  from 
thought,  but  what  St.  Paul  calls  a  AoytK^  Aarpeia.i 
Hartley  Coleridge's  lines  are  worth  quoting  : — 

Think  not  the  Faith  by  which  the  just  shall  live 
Is  a  dead  creed,  a  map  correct  of  heaven, 

Far  less  a  feehng  fond  and  fugitive, 

A  thoughtless  gift,  withdrawn  as  soon  as  given  ; 
/  It  is  an  affirmation  and  arf  act 

That  bids  eternal  truth  be  present  fact. 

The  eye  of  Faith  tries  to  discern  this  eternal  significance, 
this  absolute  value,  in  all  our  varied  experience.  And,  as 
I  have  said,  there  are  three  aspects  or  attributes  of  God's 
nature  which  glow  like  a  constellation  of  three  stars,  whose 
light  is  blended,  but  which  remain  distinct,  not  to  be  fused 
with  each  other. 

I  wish  also  to  guard  against  the  error  of  supposing  that 
goodness  is  solely  the  affair  of  the  will,  truth  of  the  intellect, 
and  beauty  of  another  separable  faculty.  WiU,  thought, 
and  feeling  are  present  in  every  mental  process.  By  Good- 
ness I  mean  a  certain  disposition  of  the  whole  man,  which 
in  the  intellectual  sphere  manifests  itself  as  a  Just  apprecia- 
tion of  moral  values,  a  clear  insight  in  the  discerning  of 
spirits,  an  enlightened  conscience.  In  the  sphere  of  the 
will  it  is  a  sincere  and  steady  purpose  to  make  the  moral 
ideal  actual,  to  favour  the  positive  values  and  suppress  the 
negative.  (Remember  that  the  law  of  the  conservation 
of  energy,  precluding  any  real  increase  of  force,  which 
prevails  in  the  mechanical  order,  has  no  validity  in  the 

1  Cf.  E.  Caird,  Evolution  of  Theology  in  the  Greek  Philosophers,  vol.  ii. 
pp.  2-5,  on  the  Aristotelian  conception  of  Oeupla  as  transcending  the  opposi- 
tion  of  theory  and  practice. 


230  FAITH  [cH. 

spiritual  order.  There  is  no  fixed  limit  to  spiritual  gains, 
,  which  do  not  involve  any  corresponding  loss  in  another 
quarter.)  In  the  realm  of  the  affections,  goodness  is  an 
emotional  attraction  to  all  that  is  pure  and  noble  and  of 
good  report,  and  (as  a  necessary  correlative)  a  repulsion 
from  the  opposite  qualities. 

By  Truth  or  Wisdom  I  mean  the  correspondence  of 
thought  with  fact,  external  fact,  until  we  have  thoroughly 
mastered  it.  '  Everything  is  to  be  called  true  according 
as  it  has  its  proper  form,  which  is  the  copy  of  the  idea  in 
the  mind  of  the  great  Artificer.'  ^  Therefore  all  things  are 
'  true,'  as  God  sees  them,  or  as  they  are  in  reality,  and  their 
'  truth '  consists  in  the  fact  that  they  are  possible  objects 
of  intellectual  perception.  In  the  sphere  of  thought  the 
quest  of  truth  means  humble  and  patient  discipleship  to 
the  laws  which  God  has  made  for  the  universe.  In  the 
sphere  of  will  and  feeling,  it  means  loyal  obedience  to  them 
and  joyful  acceptance  of  them.  Virtue  is  *  truth,'  or 
*  reality  '  (aA^^cia),  in  the  language  of  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
and  sin  a  lie,  as  the  translation  into  act  of  a  false  idea. 
Obedience  and  acceptance  do  not  mean  passive  resignation 
to  a  dispensation  which  we  cannot  alter.  Stoicism  some- 
times interpreted  duty  in  this  way ;  but  for  Christian 
Faith  the  choice  and  worship  of  the  truth  is  an  active 
co-operation,  not  a  passive  acquiescence.  The  world  is  a 
world  of  Hving  beings,  whose  nature  it  is  to  act.  We 
ourselves  are  actors  in  the  drama,  as  well  as  spectators  of 
it.  And,  being  parts  of  the  nature  which  we  are  studying, 
it  is  our  privilege  to  make,  as  well  as  to  observe,  history. 
Law  is  not  an  external  limitation  which  prevents  us  from 
being  as  free,  as  good,  and  as  happy  as  we  should  be  if 

1  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  using  Platonic  language.  The  old  definition  of  truth, 
adaequatio  intellectus  et  rei,  is  rejected  by  Kantians  and  positirists.  But 
though  correspondence  between  thought  and  its  object  is,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  undemonstrable,  since  thought  cannot  'step  out  and  look  at  itself,' 
it  is  a  matter  of  reasonable  faith  that  our  highest  faculties  do  not  deceive  us, 
and  our  faculties  certainly  assure  us  that  there  is  an  objective  world  closely 
corresponding  to  our  ideas  about  it. 


xiiij      HARMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        231 

there  were  no  law.  The  Author  of  nature  is  one  cm  servire 
regnare  est.  We  have  only  to  remember  that  He  is  the 
legislator,  not  we,  and  that  our  '  claims '  are  not  the 
measure  of  all  things. 

Beauty,  as  I  have  said,  seems  to  consist  in  the  suitableness 
of  form  to  idea — the  just  translation  of  an  idea  into  an 
appropriate  symbolic  form.  We  must  not  narrow  the 
Beautiful  into  what  we  admire  in  external  nature  or  in  art ; 
whatever  is  admirable  falls  within  its  scope.  There  is 
beauty  of  thought  and  action  as  well  as  in  the  objects  of 
aesthetic  contemplation  :  we  must  not  forget  the  fine  com- 
prehensiveness of  TO  KaAoV  to  the  Greek  mind.  ^Esthetic 
Theism  regards  God  as  the  Creator  of  Beauty,  and  as  its 
Beholder.  It  assumes  that  Beauty  has  an  absolute  value 
for  God,  and  is  not  merely  a  means  towards  the  True  or 
the  Good  ;  and  it  holds,  therefore,  that  it  has  an  absolute 
value  for  us  too. 

We  are  not  to  suppose  that  there  are  three  Faiths — that 
of  the  scientist,  that  of  the  artist,  and  that  of  the  moralist. 
We  are  not  to  attempt  a  neat  classification  by  saying  that 
"the  scientist  worships  the  true  with  his  intellect,  the  artist 
the  beautiful  with  his  feeling,  and  the  moralist  the  good  with 
his  will.  That  would  be  a  lame  conclusion,  leaving  us 
pulled  different  ways  by  our  several  faculties  towards 
divergent  ideals,  each  claiming  divine  sanction.  The  three 
in  that  case  would  only  thwart  and  partially  discredit 
each  other,  and  in  default  of  any  faculty  which  could 
adjudicate  between  them,  we  should  be  driven  back  again 
into  scepticism. 

There  must  be  an  unifying  principle,  in  which  the  different 
activities  of  our  nature  are  harmonised  as  activities  of  one 
person,  directed  towards  one  satisfying  end.  It  is  in  this 
unifying  experience  that  Faith  for  the  first  time  comes 
fully  into  its  own.  It  has  busied  itself  with  multifarious 
activities  and  experiences  belonging  to  time  and  space : 
by  entering  into  tliem  it  has  become  self-conscious  ;  it  has 


232  FAITH  [ch. 

learned  to  know  itself  and  the  world.  But  it  is  not  lost 
in  multiplicity  ;  it  ends  by  drawing  the  threads  together 
again,  and  fixing  its  gaze  on  one  object — the  eternal  world. 
This  is  the  '  simplification '  j(a7rAa)cris)  of  mysticism,  and 
it  gives  a  new  meaning  to  the  injunction  about  receiving 
the  kingdom  of  God  as  httle  children. 

Eternity  is  a  mode  under  which  all  things  in  time  may 
be  regarded.  To  view  things  sub  specie  aeternitatis  is  to 
view  them  in  relation  to  the  eternal  ideas  of  Truth,  Beauty, 
and  Goodness.  As  we  come  to  know  more  about  this 
eternal  world,  we  apprehend  more  and  more  significant 
facts  about  existence,  not  losing  or  forgetting  the  lower, 
but  putting  them  in  their  right  place.  Some  facts  (e.g, 
local  and  temporal  position)  become  unimportant.  We  get 
rid  of  the  persistent  illusion  that  there  is  some  special 
degree  of  reality  and  importance  about  the  time  through 
which  we  happen  to  be  passing,  which  is  much  as  if  we 
supposed  that  the  landscape  which  we  see  from  the  carriage 
window  came  into  existence  at  the  approach  of  the  train, 
and  faded  into  nothingness  at  its  departure.  We  value 
things  according  as  they  seem  to  participate  in  the  nature  of 
God,  as  set  forth  above.  That  which  is  isolated,  meaning- 
less, useless,  self-discordant,  is  to  that  extent  unreal  and 
valueless.  And  I  think  it  is  true  to  say  that  in  proportion 
as  we  can  rise  in  heart  and  mind  to  this  sphere,  we  perceive 
the  truth  and  beauty  of  the  good,  the  goodness  and  beauty 
of  the  truth,  and  the  truth  and  goodness  of  the  beautiful. 

Some  will  say  that  the  Good  is  the  supreme  category 
under  which  all  others  are  subsumed,  and  will  protest 
against  Truth  and  Bea'Hy  being  placed  on  the  same  level 
with  it.  They  may  appeal  to  ancient  philosophy  in  support 
of  their  contention.  The  school  of  Megara  put  the  Good 
in  the  place  of  the  '  Being '  of  the  Eleatics ;  and  the 
Platonists  identified  the  One  with  the  Good.  *  Dionysius 
the  Areopagite  '  puts  good,  as  a  divine  name,  before  Being, 
as  does  Erigena,  who  even  says,  '  The  things  which  are 


xiil]      HAEMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        233 

not  are  better  tlian  the  things  that  are,  for  in  transcend- 
ing Being  they  approach  to  the  superessential  Good,'  In 
Aquinas  the  ascending  scale  of  ideas  is  Being,  Truth,  Good- 
ness. I  think,  however,  that  Goodness  is  used  in  sHghtly 
different  senses.  When  it  is  paralleled  with  Truth  and 
Beauty,  it  is  used  in  a  distinctly  ethical  sense,  though  I  have 
shown  that  ethics  cannot  be  separated  from  devotion  to 
the  true  and  beautiful.  But  when  '  God  saw  all  that  He 
had  made,  and  behold  it  was  very  good,'  the  adjective 
implies  only  approval  and  satisfaction  with  the  result. 
It  is  '  good '  that  the  ideas  of  truth  and  beauty  should  be 
fully  realised.  If  '  good  '  is  defined  (as  it  is  e.g.  by  Suarez) 
as  the  perfection  which  exists  in  anything,  goodness  is 
wider  than  the  ethical  ideal. 

The  faculties  of  our  mind  must  be  really  unified  beforei/^  ^ 
Faith  can  fully  come  into  its  own.     The  wiU,  feeling,  and^ 
intellect  cannot  be  driven  like  the  horses  in  a  Russian 
troika,  side  by  side.     This  is  our  great  difficulty.     This  is  __ 
why  Faith  must  be  true  to  its  proper  temper — that  of   ^^ 
patient,  confident  hopefulness  and  trust.      We  must  not 
make  a  hierarchy  of  the  faculties,  as  Hegel  did,  and  as  many 
of  his  opponents  have  done.     The  intellect  is  the  latest 
bom  of  our  faculties,  and  the  finest  instrument  we  have  ; 
there  is  a  very  true  sense  in  which  it  is  *  king,'  as  being 
alone  *  evident  to  itself.'  ^   But  I  have  already  shown  that 
in   the  life   of   reason,   thus   conceived,  the    moral   and 
the  aesthetic  consciousness  find  their  full  satisfaction,  and 
are  not  relegated  to  a  lower  place. 

This  life  of  reason  is  the  life  of  the  *  perfect  man '  grown 
out  of  the  dim  mystical  consciousness  with  which  religion 
began.  Faith,  when  perfected,  becomes  a  real  spiritual 
self-consciousness,  in  which  the  human  spirit  and  the 
divine  are  in  free  communication  with  each  other.  We  have 
all  the  time  been  making  a  false  abstraction  in  considering 
Faith  as  a  merely  human  faculty.  It  is  God's  gift  as  much  ^ 
1  pofftXeiis  6  ttoCt—airds  6  Novs  ivapy^s  airbs  ^avrv.— Plotinug. 


234  FAITH  [ch. 

as  man's  service  ;  and  the  two  sides  can  never  be  separated. 
>This  is  the  fundamental  truth  of  mysticism.  The  mystics 
have  often  been  in  too  great  a  hurry,  but  they  are  right  in 
their  view  of  the  relation  of  man  to  God.  Some  of  them 
have  really  found  what  they  sought ;  but  they  have  not 
been  able  to  describe  their  highest  experiences.  Those 
who  have  stopped  half  way,  content  with  some  hasty 
synthesis,  have  often  been  more  lucid  and  intelligible 
than  those  who  have  followed  the  rugged  path  to  the  end. 
In  Edward  FitzGerald's  mystical  poem,  Attar,  there  is  a 
pretty  allegory,  which  tells  how  the  moths  sent  mes- 
sengers to  find  their  idol  the  flame.  The  first  and  second 
come  back  with  slight  and  uncertain  intelligence,  and  are 
rejected.     A  third  goes  in  their  place 

Who,  spurred  with  true  desire 
Plunging  at  once  into  the  sacred  fire 
Folded  his  wings  within,  till  he  became 
One  colour  and  one  substance  with  the  flame. 
He  only  knew  the  flame  who  in  it  burned, 
And  only  he  could  tell  who  ne'er  to  tell  returned. 

It  may  be  inferred  that  I  find  in  the  idea  of  personality 
my  ground  of  confidence  that  the  contradictions  of  experi- 
ence will  be  harmonised.  In  a  sense  this  is  so.  And  yet  I 
differ  strongly  from  some  who  have  already  defended 
Faith  by  this  argument,  among  whom  the  most  illustrious 
is  the  author  of  the  Grammar  of  Assent.  Newman,  in  this 
celebrated  book,  ranges  himself  with  the  *  Personafists ' ; 
his  appeal  is  to  the  assent  of  the  whole  man  to  rehgious 
truth,  which  cannot  be  estabfished  by  the  intellect  only, 
still  less  by  the  sentiments,  which,  as  a  basis  for  Faith, 
are  *  a  dream  and  a  mockery.'  He  further  rejects 
the  argument  from  our  sense  of  beauty,  which  seems  to 
him  too  trivial ;  and  his  intellectual  scepticism,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  is  deep  and  far-reaching.  His  *  per- 
Bonahsm '  is  therefore  almost  exclusively  ethical,  and  his 
philosophy  resembles  that  of  the  pragmatists  and  personal 


xiil]      harmonious  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        235 

idealists.  This  is  far  too  narrow  a  psychological  basis  for 
a  true  philosophy  of  personality ;  and  when,  after  an 
acute  analysis  of  the  process  by  which  beliefs  come  to  be 
held,  he  takes  us  with  breathless  haste,  by  a  series  of  leaps 
and  bounds,  into  the  heart  of  Roman  Catholic  oHhodoxy, 
we  follow  with  undiminished  admiration  of  his  dialectic, 
but  with  no  inclination  towards  conversion. 

The  word  '  personality  '  is  in  danger  of  becoming  a  philo- 
sophical shibboleth.  It  has  been  so  much  abused  that  I 
prefer  not  to  use  it.  *  We  do  not  become  personalities  by 
pronouncing  the  word  with  unction  and  emphasis.  .  .  .  The 
thought  of  personality  possesses  value  only  so  far  as  the 
word  is  backed  by  action,  and  action  which  involves  the 
building  up  of  a  new  reality.  .  .  .  The  modem  world,  like 
all  others,  is  especially  eloquent  and  enthusiastic  about 
that  in  which  it  is  most  lacking  ;  we  are  in  painful  want  of 
vigorous  and  strongly-marked  personalities,  and  we  talk 
incessantly  about  the  value  and  greatness  of  personality.'  ^ 

It  is  an  unreaHsed  ideal — the  ideal  of  Faith.  Would 
Faith  be  Faith  if  it  were  not  unrealised  ?  Faith  is  the  felt 
unity  of  unreduced  opposites.^  Have  we  not  found  that 
hope  and  venture  are  essential  parts  of  Faith  ?  Every 
religious  doctrine  has  its  inexpUcable  side,  because  it  cannot 
be  a  religious  doctrine  unless  it  stretches  out  into  the 
infinite.  The  duaUstic  form  of  consciousness  is  seemingly 
ineradicable  ;  we  are  condemned  to  a  kind  of  astigmatism 
of  which  we  are  nevertheless  fully  aware.  This  natural 
limitation  has  been  poetically  expressed  by  William 
Watson  : — 

Think  not  thy  wisdom  can  illume  away 
The  ancient  tanglement  of  night  and  day. 
Enough  to  acknowledge  both  and  both  revere ; 
They  see  not  clearliest  who  see  all  things  clear. 

1  Eucken,  T?ie  Life  of  the  Spirit,  pp.  385-6. 

»  From  Bradley,  who  says  less  accurately  that  *  Religion  is  the  felt  unity/ 
etc. 


S86  FAITH  [cH. 

The  religious  consciousness  oscillates  between  two  poles, 
presenting  all  the  highest  truths  to  us  under  the  form 
of  antinomies.  *  He  to  whom  time  is  as  eternity,  and 
eternity  as  time/  says  Jacob  Bohme,  *  is  freed  from  all 
trouble.'  No  doubt  he  would  be,  as  the  blessed  dead  are 
free  ;  but  we  have  to  live  in  time  as  citizens  of  eternity  ; 
that  is  our  practical  problem.  The  certainty  that  all 
contradictions  are  reconciled  in  the  eternal  world  is  ours  ; 
but  the  how  is  mainly  hidden  from  us.  Meanwhile,  as 
might  be  expected  while  we  are  feeling  our  way,  there  is 
a  borderland  of  half-beliefs,  half-fancies,  promptings  from 
our  sub-conscious  Ufe,  anticipations  of  later  developments. 
These  vague  intimations  are  neither  to  be  rejected  nor 
superstitiously  obeyed,  but  studied  and  analysed,  and 
above  all  brought  to  the  test  of  action,  till  they  yield 
something  definite. 

The  negative  movement  in  all  experience  is  a  great 
mystery,  but  it  is  the  condition  of  Faith's  existence.  There 
are  some  remarkable  thoughts  in  the  following  words  of 
R.  L.  Stevenson  (Virginihus  Puerisque,  p.  41) :  *  The  true 
conclusion  is  to  turn  our  backs  on  apprehensions,  and 
embrace  that  shining  and  courageous  virtue.  Faith.  Hope 
is  the  boy,  a  blind,  headlong,  pleasant  fellow ;  Faith  is 
the  grave,  experienced,  yet  smiling  man.  Hope  lives  on 
ignorance ;  open-eyed  Faith  is  built  upon  a  knowledge  of 
our  life,  of  the  tyranny  of  circumstance,  and*  the  frailty 
of  human  resolution.  Hope  looks  for  unquahfied  success  ; 
but  Faith  coimts  certainty  a  failure,  and  takes  honourable 
defeat  to  be  a  form  of  victory.'  This  is  exactly  the  lesson 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  though  the  New  Testament 
gives  Hope  a  much  higher  place,  as  Faith's  twin  sister. 
'  The  spiritual  life,  however  deep  and  divine  our  conception 
of  it  may  be,  is  not  an  oppositionless  experience,  but  shares 
the  essential  characteristic  of  all  personal  activity — that, 
namely,  of  developing  through  self-diremption  and  self- 
return.    It  is  within  the  spiritual  Hfe  itself  that  all  opposi- 


XIII.]      HARMONIOUS  SPIKITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        237 

tions  are  at  once  created  and  overcome.'  ^  Dissatisfaction 
with  the  actual  is  a  condition  of  Faith,  and  a  part  of  it. 
We  must  not  conceive  of  Faith  developing  apart  from  the 
pain  and  the  evil,  the  ignorance  and  the  ugliness,  which  it 
resists.  The  oppositions  which  stimulate  and  perplex  our 
mortality  are  themselves  part  of  our  immortal  substance ; 
the  Good,  sub  specie  aeternitatis,  is  a  good  which  has  over- 
come evil  rather  than  an  abstract  notion  of  good  which 
excludes  it. 

This  is  really  fundamental,  according  to  my  view.  Faith 
rearranges  all  experience,  which  is  presented  to  us  at  first 
so  chaotically,  but  it  leaves  nothing  out.  Every  contra- 
diction must  be  fairly  met  and  overcome.  If  we  edge 
round  it,  if  we  ignore  it  or  shirk  it  in  any  way,  we  shall 
enter  into  life  halt  and  maimed,  if  we  enter  at  all.  Even 
the  claims  of  piety  must  give  way  to  the  love  of  truth. 
To  put  the  needs  of  the  heart  before  truth  is  really  an  act 
of  treason  against  Faith. 

This  unified  experience  is  the  perfected  state,  and  the 
fruition,  of  Faith.  There  are  not  many  who  can  hope 
to  attain  to  it  in  this  life,  though,  as  Browning  says, 
*  moments  '  are  not '  denied  us  '  in  which  *  the  spirit's  true 
endowments  stand  out  plainly  from  its  false  ones.'  The 
common  life  of  the  Church,  in  most  cases,  brings  us  nearer 
to  it  than  we  could  get  as  isolated  individuals,  and  this  is 
a  truth  which  I  wish  to  emphasise,  as  I  have  been  obliged 
to  traverse  some  of  the  claims  which  the  greatest  of  Chris- 
tian Churches  makes  for  itself. 

Of  the  object  of  Faith — God — I  have  said  very  little, 
except  that  He  is  known  to  us  in  His  attributes  of  perfect 
Truth,  Beauty,  and  Goodness.  I  do  not  agree  with  those 
philosophers  who  say  that  the  Absolute  is  wholly  withdrawn 
from  our  ken.  *  The  fulness  of  Him  that  filleth  all  in  all ' 
is  thoroughly  conceivable  as  an  idea,  though  not  cognoscible, 
and  is  a  possible  and  legitimate  object  of  adoration.  If  I 
1  Boyce  Gibson,  R.  Eucken's  Philosophy  of  Lifef  p.  154. 


338  FAITH  [ca 

am  to  attempt  to  clothe  my  idea  of  God  in  philosophical 
as  well  as  in  religious  language,  I  can  nearly  accept  the 
following  statement  of  Professor  Royce  {Hibbert  Journal, 
July  1907) — only  stipulating  that  the  *  will '  which  is 
eternally  in  possession  of  its  object  can  no  longer  be 
distinguished  from  thought : — *  I  mean  by  the  term  God 
the  totality  of  the  expressions  and  life  of  the  world-will, 
when  considered  in  its  conscious  unity.  God  is  a  con- 
sciousness  which  knows  and  which  intends  the  entire  life 
of  the  world,  a  consciousness  which  views  this  life  at  one 
glance,  as  its  own  life  and  self,^  and  which  therefore  not  only 
wills  but  attains,  not  only  seeks  but  possesses,  not  only 
passes  from  expression  to  expression,  but  eternally  is  the 
entire  temporal  sequence  of  its  own  expressions.  God  has 
and  is  a  will,  and  this  will,  if  viewed  as  a  temporal  sequence 
of  activities,  is  identical  with  what  I  have  called  the  world- 
will.  Only,  when  viewed  as  the  divine  will,  this  world- will 
is  taken  not  merely  as  an  infinite  sequence  of  will-activities, 
but  in  its  entire  unity  as  one  whole  of  life.  God  is  omni- 
scient, because  His  insight  comprehends  and  finds  unified, 
in  one  eternal  instant,  the  totality  of  the  temporal  process, 
with  all  of  its  contents  and  meanings.  He  is  omnipotent, 
because  all  that  is  done  is,  when  viewed  in  its  unity.  His 
deed,  and  that  despite  the  endless  varieties  and  strifes 
which  freedom  and  the  variety  of  individual  finite  expres- 
sions involve.  God  is  immanent  in  the  finite,  because 
nothing  is,  which  is  not  part  of  His  total  self-expression. 
He  is  transcendent  of  all  finitude,  because  the  totality  of 
finite  processes  is  before  Him  at  once,  whereas  nothing 
finite  possesses  true  totality.* 

The  Ufe  of  Faith  admits  us  to  a  real,  not  an  imaginary, 
communion  with  God.  As  Faith  realises  itself  in  know- 
ledge or  reason,  as  we  understand  what  that  vague  yearning 

1  The  life  of  the  world  is  not,  even  in  its  totality,  the  'self  of  God,  but  the 
expression  of  His  thought  and  will.  Royce  does  not  emphasise  quite 
■uflBciently  (to  satisfy  me)  the  transcendence  of  God. 


I 


■e; 


III.]      HARMONIOUS  SPIEITUAL  DEVELOPMENT        239 

which  has  been  with  us  so  long  really  means,  namely,  that 
there  is  a  God  who  has  made  us  for  Himself,  and  who  has 
been  drawing  us  towards  Himself,  not  only  do  all  the 
tangled  threads  of  life  begin  to  straighten,  but  our  hearts 
glow  with  a  new  emotional  warmth.     We  begin  to  know 

e  love  of  God.  And  so  we  are  brought  back  to  the  fine 
words  of  Clement  about  Faith,  Knowledge,  and  Love, 
which  I  quoted  in  my  second  lecture. 

Faith  is  the  human  side  of  the  religious  relation,  Grace 
is  the  corresponding  divine  side.  The  spiritual  life  is  not 
a  work  of  man  himself,  but  of  the  whole  world-movement 
drawing  him  on.  The  divine  in  humanity  is  imfolding 
itself  in  us.  Spirituality  is,  as  it  were,  a  new  stage  in  the 
world's  life,  a  new  cosmic  force.  *  God,'  in  the  words  of 
St.  Paul,  *  works  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  plea- 
sure.' Every  religious  act  is  an  act  of  Faith  and  Grace 
together.  They  are  the  two  indissoluble  sides  of  one  act, 
through  which  the  union  between  God  and  man  becomes 
actual.  The  human  and  divine  elements  must  both  be 
active  in  Faith ;  otherwise  we  get  either  rationalism  or 
magical  supematuralism.  In  either  case,  all  real  relation 
between  God  and  man  is  lost. 

But  in  the  experience  of  the  growing  spirit.  Faith  and 
Grace  are  double,  and  it  is  because  they  are  not  yet  fused 
that  the  divine  side  of  the  relation  is  projected  as  super- 
natural dogma  instead  of  as  the  personal  self-communi- 
cation of  God,  and  the  human  as  cultus  instead  of  as  the 
free  response  to  that  self-communication.  Dogma  and 
cultus  are  the  untransparent  middle  forms  of  knowledge 
and  action.  Faith  passes  through  them,  but  does  not 
remain  shut  up  in  them. 

Revelation  is  the  divine  side  of  intellectual  Faith.  It  is 
the  name  given  to  grace  as  enlightenment  and  persuasion 
of  divine  truth.  All  revelation  is  in  part  inner  and  per- 
sonal :  it  is  never  wholly  in  nature  or  history.  All  that 
can  be  done  from  outside  is  to  quicken  and  confirm  the 


240  FAITH  [CH. 

revelation  in  the  soul.  Since  revelation  speaks  to  the 
central  and  most  divine  part  of  the  personaUty,  it  con- 
veys absolute  truth,  from  which,  as  I  have  maintained, 
we  are  not  excluded,  though  the  forms  under  which  it  is 
conveyed  are  human  and  imperfect. 

As  revelation  corresponds  to  intellectual  Faith,  so. 
redemption  corresponds  to  what  we  may  call  heart-Faith. 
Faith  is,  on  one  side,  self-surrender.  But  surrender  is  only 
the  first  stage  in  the  human  process  which  corresponds  to 
redemption ;  the  second  stage  is  atonement,  or  recon- 
ciliation. God  redeems  man  from  evil  and  guilt,  and 
man  feels  himself  reconciled  to  God.  Redemption  and 
atonement  are  functionally  identical,  and  the  feeling  of 
reconciliation  is  peace.  Surrender,  reconciliation,  peace, 
are  the  three  stages  of  heart-Faith,  which  correspond  to 
the  act  of  grace  as  ledemption.^ 

The  third  form  of  Grace  is  that  which  belongs  to  the  will. 
The  religious  relation,  says  Hartmann  in  the  work  Just 
referred  to,  raises  us  above  relative  dependence  on  the 
world,  to  absolute  dependence  on  God,  which  is  freedom. 
'  Sanctification '  is  the  name  given  to  both  the  negative 
and  positive  stages  of  this  deliverance  and  elevation.  On 
the  human  side  the  first  stage  is  moral  freedom,  the  second 
moral  energy.  Holiness  is  virtue  rooted  in  the  religious 
relation ;  its  activities  are  the  actualising  of  the  refigious 
relation.  The  distinction  between  holiness  and  virtue  is 
qualitative,  not  quantitative. 

-'  But  revelation,  redemption,  and  sanctification  are  closely 
connected.  '  Only  the  imity  of  intellectual,  affective,  and 
practical  Faith  embraces  the  whole  conception  of  Faith, 
just  as  only  the  unity  of  revelation,  redemption,  and  sancti- 
fication reaUses  the  whole  conception  of  grace.'^ 

Hartmann' s  treatment  of  Faith  and  Grace  as  the  human 
and  divine  aspects  of  the  same  activity  seems  to  me  to 

1  Cf.  Hartmann,  Religion  des  Oeistes, 
*  Hartmann,  op.  cit. 


I 


II.]      HARMONIOUS  SPIRITUAL  DEVELOPMENT       241 

make  it  easier  to  harmonise  the  static  and  djmamio  aspects 
of  spiritual  truth. 

I  will  conclude  these  lectures  by  a  quotation  from  a 
writer  who  speaks  with  high  authority.  I  am  glad  to  find 
in  his  words  a  powerful  support  for  the  view  of  the  nature 
and  function  of  Faith  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  lay 
before  you.  --— - 

'  Faith  is  the  faculty  implanted  in  every  man  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  the  ally  of  the  reason,  the  will,  the  affections, 
which  swiftly  discerns  and  swiftly  weighs  evidence  as  to 
the  things  of  the  unseen  and  eternal  order,  appealing  partly 
to  the  intellect  and  partly  to  the  spirit.  The  divine  gift 
of  reason  is  educated  by  the  divine  gift  of  Faith ;  and 
Faith  is  educated  by  reason.  For  a  while  reason  and 
Faith  pursue  their  journey  together.  At  length  the  time 
comes  when  reason  acknowledges  that  there  is  a  bar  to 
further  progress,  and  when  Faith  must  press  on  alone  into 
the  realities  of  the  unseen  and  the  eternal.  Faith  returns 
at  length  from  that  far  journey  and  submits  to  reason  the 
assurance  she  has  gained  as  to  the  things  of  God.  Reason 
reviews,  harmonises,  gives  expression  to  the  discoveries 
of  Faith.  The  will  translates  them  into  the  activities  of  a 
holy  life.  The  heart  loves  and  rejoices  in  the  God  and 
Father  of  whom  Faith  witnesses.  The  reason,  the  will, 
the  heart,  are  the  allies  of  Faith.  Together,  if  they  have 
their  perfect  work,  they  make  the  hfe  on  earth  divine. 
Together  they  realise  that  eternal  life  which  lies  about  us 
and  is  in  us,  but  which  as  yet  is  hidden  from  us  by  the 
shadows  of  the  seen  and  the  temporal.'  ^ 

1  Bishop  of  Ely  (Dr.  Chase)  at  Barrow  Church  Congress,  1906. 


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Newman,  Cardinal,  Lectures  on  Justification. 
O'Brien,  Bishop,  Sermons  on  the  Nature  and  Effects  of  Faith, 
Pratt,  J.  B.,  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief. 
Rauwenhoff,  L.,  Religionsphilosophie. 
Romanes,  G.  J.,  Thoughts  on  Religion. 

Sabatier,  a.,  Les  Religions  d'Autoritd  et  la  Religion  de  V Esprit. 
Skrine,  J.  H.,  JFhat  is  Faith  ? 
Stanton,  V.  H.,  The  Place  of  Authority  in  Matters  of  Religious 

Belief. 
Starbuck,  E.  D.,  The  Psychology  of  Religion. 
TiELE,  C.  P.,  Elements  of  the  Science  of  Religion. 
Tyrrell,  G.,  Lex  Orandi;  Lex  Credendi. 
Upton,  C.  B.,  Eibhert  Lectures,  1893. 
Watson,  John,  The  Philosophical  Basis  of  Religion. 


INDEX 


JBOTT,  B.  A.,  7,  28. 
Abelard,  30. 
Acedia,  51. 

^Esthetic  ground  of  Faith,  203-22. 
Alanus  of  Lille,  84. 
Alexander  of  Hales,  99. 
Allen,    A.    V.    G.,     Continuity    of 

Christian  Thought,  30. 
Anselm,  30. 

Antiquity,  appeal  to,  96-7. 
Aquinas,  Thomas,  31-3,  39,  178,  217, 

230,  233. 
Aristotle,  48,  144,  153,  195,  209.^ 
Arnold,  Matthew,  159. 
Athenagoras,  110. 
AufkL&rung^  the,  136. 
Augustine,  18,  30,  70,  112,  116,  123, 

144,  215. 
Authority,  72-139, 

Bacon,  Francis,  153, 199. 
Baldwin,  Prof.,  71. 
Balfour,  A.  J.,  76,  190. 
Balmez,  J.,  144. 
Basilides,  26. 
Bayle,  76. 

Beauty,  47,  203-22.  231. 
Bengel,  128. 

Benson,  Miss  Margaret,  43. 
Bernard,  31. 
Bethune-Baker,  110. 
Bible,  the.  107-23. 
Boedder,  Bernard,  61. 
Bohme,  Jacob,  236. 
Bonaventura,  99. 
Bosanquet,  Bernard,  207,  212. 


Bradley,  F.  H,,  199,  235. 
Browning.  R.,  63,  65,  139. 
Brunetiere,  Ferdinand,  178. 
Bucke,  65. 
Buddhism,  44. 
Burke,  207. 
Burkitt,  F.  C,  94. 
Butler,  Dom,  101. 

Caird,  E.,  189.  229. 

Caird,  J.,188. 

Caldecott,  A.,  59, 183,  190. 

Catholicism,  161. 

Celsus,  21. 

Change  and  permanence,  194-96. 

'Charcoal  Burner's  Faith,'  85. 

Chase,  Bishop.  241. 

Chillingworth,  107. 

Chrysostom,  16,  34,  120. 

Church,  the,  as  primary  authority, 

87-106. 
Church,  Dean,  213. 
Clarke,  147. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  24-30. 
Clement  of  Rome,  27. 
Clementine  Recognitions,  25. 
Clough,  A.  H.,  142. 
Coleridge,  Hartley,  229. 
Colet,  110. 
Cornill,  108. 
Corvo,  Baron,  95. 
Cousin,  Victor,  220. 
Cud  worth,  180. 
Cyprian,  92. 

Darwin,  48. 


246 


FAITH 


Davidson,  A.  B.,  6. 

De  Faye,  30 

De  Pressensd,  63. 

Descartes,  180. 

Development,  100. 

Diognetus,  Epistle  to,  25. 

Dion  Chrysostom,  74. 

Dionysius  the  A.reopagite,  232. 

Dobschiitz,  13. 

Dogmas,  170-1,  289. 

Dogmatism,  83. 

Dorner,  1. 

Du  Bose,  17, 18. 

ECKHART,  146. 

Emerson,  227. 

English  reformers,  37. 

Erasmus,  120. 

Erigena,  232. 

Eucken,  R.,  137, 187-8,  235. 

Faibbaibn,  a.  M.,  120. 
Farrar,  Dean,  109,  111. 
Fear,  and  faith,  70. 
Fechner,  G.  T.,  1. 
Feeling,  faith  as,  55-71. 
Fichte,  41, 182,  188,  227. 
FitzGerald,  E.,  234. 
Flint,  Robert,  66. 
Frank,  Sebastian,  115. 
Friends,  Society  of,  91. 
Fries,  J.  F.,  220. 


Gibson,  Botob,  187,  237. 

Gnosis,  197. 

Gnosticism,  20,  21,  28,  29. 

Goethe,  49. 

Goodness,  46,  229. 

Gore,  Bishop,  102. 

Gospels,  in  Modernist  criticism,  167. 

Grace,  239-41. 

Greek  conception  of  reality,  165. 

Grubb,  E.,  88. 

Gwatkin,  M.,  51,  75,  120,  184. 


Hare,  Jultus,  19,  197. 
Hamack,  11,  89,  98,  111,  131. 
Hartmann,  E.  von,  52,  67,  240-1. 
Hebrew  conception  of  Faith,  4. 
Hebrews,  Epistle  to  the,  15-18,  117. 
Hegel,  67.  179,  181,  188,  207. 
Heine,  30. 
Heraclitus,  141. 
Hermas,  24,  25. 
Herrmann,  133,  158. 
Hippolytus,  110. 
Hoffdiug,  Harald,  179,  227. 
Homilies,  37. 
Hope,  2,  15. 
Hume,  154. 
Hutcheson,  218. 
Huxley,  152,  200. 
Huysmans,  211. 

Ignatius,  24. 
Individuality,  225. 
Inspiration,  88-9,  107-23. 
Instinct,  201. 
Intellectualism,  178-202. 

Jacobi,  60. 

James,  Epistle  of,  18,  19. 

James,  Wm.,  66,  142,  150-1,  179. 

Jerome,  117. 

John,  Gospel  of  St.,  20-23. 

John  of  Salisbury,  76. 

Jones,  Henry,  76,  190-2. 

Justification,  11-13,  33-5. 

Justin  Martyr,  110. 

Kaftan,  J.,  98, 133. 

Kant,  3,9jJ47-9,  162, 176,  179, 180-4, 

206-77^ 
Kidd,  Benjamin,  75. 
Knowledge,  relation  of  faith  to,  27, 

178-202. 

LiABKRTHONNliiRE,  Abb^,  164-7. 
Ladd,  G.  T.,  181-2,  207. 
Lange,  F.  A.,  160. 


INDEX 


247 


Law,  William,  63. 

Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  200. 

Leibnitz,  187. 

Le  Roy,  164-7.  171. 

Leasing,  80. 

Leuba,  200. 

*  Lex  Orandi;  lex  Gredendi,'  172. 

Lightfoot,  Bishop,  2,  8. 

Logos  Doctrine,  129, 135. 

Loisy,  A.,  102,  167-9. 

Longinus,  207. 

Lotze,  42,  49,  62,  155,  181. 

Love,  relation  of   faitb  to,   27,   67, 

70-1. 
Lowell,  121. 

Lutheranism,  12,  33,  38,  111.  112. 
Lyttelton,  (first)  Baron,  142. 

Maeterlinck,  80. 

Mansel,  H.  L.,  143. 

Martineau,  James,  93. 

Mechanism,  apparent,  184. 

Melanchthon,  35-6. 

Millet,  J.  F.,200. 

Milton,  48, 108. 

Miracles,  162-3. 

Modernism,  102-5,  114,  161-77. 

Myers,  F.,  66. 

Mysticism,  55,  67,  68. 

Newman,  Cardinal,  2,  36,  37,  38,  92, 

100-2,  179,  234. 
Nominalism,  99,  146. 
'  Notes  of  the  true  Church,'  94-6. 
Novalis,  220. 

Occam,  99. 

Old  Testament  Canon,  108. 

Ontological  argument,  180-2. 

Ontologism,  61-2. 

Origen,  21. 

Orr,  James,  132-3. 

Paley,  179. 

Parker,  Theodore,  61. 

Pascal,  70,  179. 


Paul,  St.,  10-15,  186. 

Personalism,  234. 

Peter,  Second  Epistle  of,  121. 

Pfleiderer,  14,  15.  115,  157. 

Philo,  6,  7,  109. 

Philostratus,  211. 

Pio  Nono,  99. 

Plato,  2,  3,  108-9,  207,  211. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  45. 

Plotinus,  4,  48,  56,  195,  211,  215. 

Plutarch,  3. 

Pope,  the,  as  infallible,  92. 

Practical  needs,  faith  based  on,  161- 

77. 
Pragmatism,  42,  146, 150-1,  170-1. 
Pratt,  57,  69,  71. 
'  Programme  of  Modernism,'  166, 169, 

176. 
Prophetigm,  87-91,  119. 

Quietism,  55,  64; 

Rationalism,  178-202. 
Reason  and  faith,  178-202. 
Redemption,  240. 
Reid,  Thomas,  206. 
Renan,  143. 
Revelation,  82,  239. 
Reville,  A.,  62. 
Rickaby,  Joseph,  77,  144. 
Ritschl,  97-8,  131-4,  155-7. 
Rohde,  Erwin,  69. 
Romanticism,  221. 
Royce,  Josiah,  238. 
Ruskin,  219. 
Ryle,  Bishop,  108. 

Sabatier,  a.,  91. 
Sanctification,  240. 
Sanday,  W.,  109,  117. 
Sanday  and  Headlam,  7,  19. 
Santayana,  George,  159,  206,  209. 
Scepticism,  143. 
Schleiermacher,  42,  57-60,  66-7. 
Schopenhauer,  154,  194. 
Science  and  miracles,  163. 


248 


FAITH 


Seeley,  J.  R.,  219. 

Shaftesbury,  217. 

Skrine,  J.  H.,  223. 

Smith,  John,  217. 

Spencer,  H.,  143,  149. 

Spinoza,  146,  187,  189. 

Stanton,  V.  H.,  79. 

'  Static*  view  of  reality,  165,  194-6. 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  236. 

Stoicism,  29. 

Suarez,  233. 

Superstition,  72-4. 

Synoptic  Gospels,  faith  in,  7-10. 

Teleoloqical  argument,  183-4. 

Tennyson,  50,  56. 

TertuUian,  29,  30,  89. 

'  Testimonium  Spiritus  Sancti,'  117. 

*  Theologia  Oermanica,'  146. 

Theophilus,  25. 

Tillotson,  185. 

Toland,  185»  187. 


Tradition,  99,  118. 
Trent,  Council  of,  113. 
Truth,  45,  230, 
Tyrrell.  G.,  39, 104-5,  172-8. 

Valentinians,  26. 
Value  and  existence,  50. 
Value-judgments,  156. 
Vatican  Council,  179. 

Wallace,  W.,  104. 

Warfield,  5. 

Watson,  William,  210,  235. 

Weigel,  115. 

Wesleys,  the,  115. 

Westcott,  Bishop,  16,  17,  129. 

Westminster  Confession,  117. 

Will,  faith  as,  140-60. 

Wordsworth,  W.,  28,  65,  219. 

Works,  relation  of  faith  to,  13,  8& 

Xenofqon,  4. 


Studies  in  Theology 

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